


Work In Progress

by Ardatli



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cameos, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mixed Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Billy is a Steve/Tony fanfic writer, Teddy is a fanartist, online relationships are confusing, and NYCC is coming. </p><p>Or, the one where fandom is a way of life.</p><p>Multimedia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khirsah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/gifts).



> This may require some explanation. 
> 
> Back in the summer, Khirsah gave me a fic prompt that I loved, poked at, then set aside in order to focus on big bang-related things (and Pacific Rim, but that's neither here nor there). I set myself a deadline of her birthday, which happens to be today, in order to get it done and out of my damned wip folder. 
> 
> But as I started to work on it seriously, it started to grow. And mutate. And evolve. And now it's a bit of a thing. 
> 
> Work in Progress was very much a group effort by the end, and I have to make my shoutouts to Maelikki, Caterpills and Yafgcrich for efforts far above and beyond the usual call of duty. I love you all more than words can express, for not only encouraging but actively joining me in this insanity. 
> 
> You'll understand when you see it. 
> 
> A proper credits list is posted as the final chapter of the story. 
> 
> The wordcount is deceptive. This is an image-heavy story, with images hosted off-site. I have placed the text included in the images either below or in the alt tags for those images, but this won't work properly if downloaded from AO3. 
> 
> If you would like an image-free/text-only version, or a pdf with images, please contact me directly at ardatli [at] gmail [dot] com.
> 
> \--
> 
> This is an open AU. Anyone who feels the urge is welcome to transform, remix, expand upon and otherwise create for this world. There are only two requests - link to the original story, and send me the link to yours, so we can cross-reference.

**Wanna be nosy? Here's your chance.**

0: Height

1: Virgin?

2: Shoe size

...

 

* * *

 

****

* * *

**Hulkling:**    I’m not ignoring your ask, I swear! It’s a ‘not giving out too much personal information in public’ thing.

 **Asgardian:** Somehow I doubt the NSA cares about Avengers fandom blogs. We’re not going to end up on no-fly lists for shipping Stony.

 **Hulkling:** You remember my mom had that thinga few years ago... a creep stole her identity and took out a line of credit; it was a massive mess. I got a lot more careful with what I tell people.

 **Asgardian:** That’s why you never do memes? I’m still not sure what the connection is. They’re anon anyway. (need a tin foil hat for your computer?)

 **Hulkling:**  You know what the most common passwords are? Middle names, pet names and mother’s maiden names. Now go take a look at the first quiz on your dash and see what questions are on it (kiss my butt)

 **Asgardian:** Before the question meme, you mean? ‘what’s your porn star name’. Nice try. (bend over)

 **Hulkling:**  ... made up of your?

 []

 **Asgardian:**... first pet’s name and mother’s maiden name. Oh my god.

(Eliza Dushku? Srsly?)

 **Hulkling:**  (It was the first one that came up when I googled ‘fuck you gif’)

 Bam. Do two of those and click the wrong popup and they can get into your computer; have someone wish you happy 21st birthday, and that’s enough for someone with your full name to get your birth certificate reissued.

 **Asgardian:** I hate you so much. Gotta go.

 **Hulkling:**  Where?

 **Asgardian:** spend the next hour sanitizing my blog. 

 **Hulkling:**  before you go! Did you get the sketches I sent?

 **Asgardian:** I did! They’re amazing! (I wish I could draw)

 **Hulkling:**  But then you wouldn’t need me anymore. : (

 **Asgardian:** Oh, you caught me. The whole time, I’ve only been using you for your l33t art sk1llz. Shut up.

 **Hulkling:**  I knew it. Three years down the drain. [sniff] My life is a lie.

 **Asgardian:** Oh plz. I also use you for your follower count. Every time you rec one of my fics, I get at least a hundred new hits. It’s kind of awesome.

 **Hulkling:**  Aww. The kind of love that dreams are built on.

 I’m going to do a Livestream tonight and get the penciling done for the minicomic. Keep me company? You can make sure I’m getting the pacing right.

 **Asgardian:** Can’t; it’s family dinner night, command appearance required. I really like the storyboarding, though; I think it’ll work fine as-is.

 **Hulkling:**  Stop in once you get home. I might still be on, unless it’s really late. Otherwise we’re gonna spend the whole time talking about you. Mwa ha ha.

 **Asgardian:** Your evil laugh needs work.

 **Hulkling:**  [[evil_laugh_cackle.mp3]](http://comics.shipsinker.com/ardatli_wip/Evil_Laugh_Cackle.mp3) 

 Better?

 **Asgardian:** Much.

 

Billy clicked on send as the world flipped itself 90 degrees backward. He yelped and flailed out with all four limbs as his chair toppled backward, caught inches before he hit the ground.

“Boo.”

Billy glared up at Tommy’s wide and teeth-baring grin. At least, as much as he could from flat on his back, his legs splayed up and over the seat of the chair, and Tommy’s grip the only safety net between him and the floor. “Every day brings more and more proof that agreeing to room with you was a mistake,” Billy said, only partially serious.

Even if he’d meant it, it wouldn’t have mattered; that had been part of the deal. He and Tommy could move out, even though they were only going to NYU, as long as they lived together. _We’re not paying to set up two apartments,_ Dad had said, and that had been that. It was worth it to have their own space, away from their two younger brothers, but sometimes... sometimes Billy questioned his decision. Just a little.      

Tommy let him go, releasing the chair back slowly until gravity was no longer the enemy and Billy could tip himself back up to vertical. “Flirting with your internet girlfriend again?” Tommy sat on the edge of Billy’s desk, shoving his textbooks out of the way to make himself some room. “You need to get a life off of the computer, nerd.” He reached out to mess up Billy’s hair, and Billy smacked his hand away.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Tommy grinned again in that stupid and infuriating way. At least with Tommy’s hair bleached Billy wasn’t looking into an exact mirror of himself anymore. Not that it had ever been that difficult for anyone who knew the Kaplan twins to tell them apart after a first meeting. Tommy was actually considered cool. Billy still collected action figures.

“Hulkling’s not my girlfriend,” Billy focused on the one thing that was actually important, making a face. Not at the Hulkling part, because despite knowing virtually nothing about her (his?) real life, they got along better than Billy did with most people. They had since the moment they’d met (or “met” - you could practically hear the air quotes in Tommy’s voice) in the #avengers_mansion chat room. Hulkling had actually gotten Billy’s stupid punch lines, riffed off of them, backed Billy up when some idiot had challenged his trivia answers.

It also didn’t hurt that Hulkling was one of the most talented Steve/Tony artists in the fandom. There was a lot to admire.  

That had been back when they were all still in high school. Three years, more than 5,000 emails, four co-written fancomics, and a shared dropbox folder later, Hulkling was the first person Billy looked for when signing on in the mornings, and again in the evenings after class. He (she?) was one of only six people in Billy’s phone with their own private e-mail alert sound, and was single-handedly responsible for way, way too many late nights spent blinking blearily at his laptop screen, unwilling to be the first to log off and go to bed.

Tommy, still sitting on his desk, snorted. “Considering she draws porn for you, I’d say she wants to be. How do I get a girl to draw porn for me?” he asked with a fake leer.

“Write fandom smut of some kind, preferably slash.” Billy kicked back in his chair, shoving Tommy’s legs over with his feet. “There are plenty of fanartists out there who’ll draw for you. The more explicit the better,” he continued, savoring the moment when Tommy’s face started to fall. “Rimming, fisting, or there’s always the mpreg, vore and watersports crowds... I bet you could get quite a following writing size kink with Wasp and the Incredible Hulk-”

Tommy grabbed his feet and shoved Billy backward, grimacing. “Yeah, _pass._ I’ll leave that to you and your virtual harem.”

“It’s not a harem,” Billy protested. Not like Tommy would pay attention this time either, but he had to make the attempt. “And besides; Hulkling might not be a girl.”

“Please. Who else hangs out on Tumblr drawing dicks all day?”

Billy looked at him, and said nothing.

“Okay,” Tommy said, putting up a hand in fake surrender. “Girl, or seriously socially stunted gay nerd.” He unfolded himself from Billy’s desk. “Now would you get moving? Your internet romances are boring and we’re going to be late.”

Billy reached back without looking and managed to land a vague approximation of a punch on Tommy’s upper arm. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t. But I’m not sitting through another round of mom’s ‘showing up on time is a sign of basic respect for your family’ routine if I don’t have to. I’m leaving in five minutes, with or without you.”

 

 **Asgardian:** gotta go. My stupid brother being stupid.

 **Hulkling:**  enjoy the big blue room!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein plans get made, and freakouts happen.

There was a grey spot on the living room ceiling, right above the shabby old couch. If Billy aimed just right, he could hit it with the small red rubber ball that he was bouncing in his hand.

_Thock_

Amanda, the grad student who lived upstairs, definitely wasn’t home yet, or she’d be pounding on the floor already to get him to knock it off. But the repetition helped him think, and if he sat down at his computer again he’d be tempted to log on to Skype, just to see if Hulkling was on.

_Thock_

He wanted to talk to Hulkling. There was something about her, the way she listened and really seemed to understand him, the way everything in the world fell into place when they were ‘together’. For whatever value of ‘together’ it was. It felt good. Better than good. Amazing.

It felt like falling. 

And that was the whole problem. Along with being a major distraction from getting his homework done, which, he wasn’t exactly making great headway on it at the moment _anyway..._

_Thock_

Other than ‘perfect,’ he had absolutely no idea who Hulkling _was_.

He’d picked up clues, of course. They were about the same age. Hulkling was American as well, had started college a year before Billy, but had a birthday right at the end of the school cutoff. He was also somewhere in the Eastern time zone, probably New England somewhere.

Hulkling loved classic rock, drank chai instead of coffee, liked to take long rambling directionless walks to get ideas flowing, and despite being one of the closest things they had to an artist BNF, was stupidly self-conscious about her (his?) art.

Her (fuck it) _zir_ father had died when zie was a kid. Every March 25 th zie took flowers to his grave, and the past two times, Billy had been waiting online afterward with distractions and sympathy. Zie didn’t post a lot of zir own meta, but was the first to jump in on the defense whenever anyone got dogpiled for theirs. Whether zie agreed with them or not. 

Also see: a fixation on red underpants that stemmed from a brief flirtation with the Sherlock fandom, was attracted to men, and reblogged the same picture of Chris Pine in leather pants with incoherent key-smashing every time it came across zir dash.

Zie loved pickles and Game of Thrones, hated the New 52 purely on principle, had been sorted into Hufflepuff the first day Pottermore opened, and romanced Anders in Dragon Age every time. Zie had fallen in with a bad crowd in high school, done some stupid things that zie regretted, and they had once spent a long night talking about self-image and acceptance, depression, adoption, families and betrayal, and all the other things that come out at three am when personal boundaries are long gone.

When you knew all that about someone, what did knowing name, rank and serial number really matter?

_Thock_

Except that sometimes Billy wondered.

And sometimes, yeah, he fantasized, putting Hulkling's words into an imaginary guy's mouth. It didn’t take much to envision what real life could be like if he had someone that amazing think that Billy was kind of amazing too.

But imagination was all it was ever going to be.

Because as much as Hulkling might be a queer guy, bi or straight girl or non-binary pan-something or another... Billy was pretty much entirely gay. For someone who fit him so perfectly in every other way, though, if there was even a small chance he could adjust, wouldn’t it be worth trying... ?

That was where it all got hopelessly tangled up, every time. Because he knew himself, even if he didn’t know much about anything else.

When you came right down to it, there was no actual guarantee that Hulkling was even as zie presented zirself. For all Billy could prove, zie could be a handlebar-mustachioed biker in California, or a grandmother in Berlin.

The internet was weird like that.

_Thock_

The ball didn’t make it back down to his hand. Tommy grabbed it out of the air and flung himself on to the couch, squashing Billy’s legs. Billy didn’t bother fighting him this time.

“Are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Tommy asked.

“Yes Brain, but how do you plan to get the salami on the ceiling fan?”

“Narf.”

Maybe Hulkling wasn’t the _only_ person in the world who understood him properly. Even if Hulkling turned out to be some kind of online con artist, or married with six kids, Billy would always have his brother.

“You have that ‘I swear to god I’m not despairing about my hopeless crush’ look on your face again.” Tommy shifted on the couch, pushing Billy’s legs up and taking over the back corner for himself.

Billy flung his arm over his eyes. “It’s not a crush.” Tommy bounced the ball off of Billy’s left kneecap. “I don’t even know what he – or she – looks like. And if Hulkling’s a girl, then there’s no point at all. I need to stop trying to romanticize it.” Tommy didn’t say anything, and Billy kept talking, the silence gnawing at him. “We’re just good friends, and that’s all it will ever be.”

Tommy probably thought he was an idiot.

“You’re an idiot,” Tommy said. “What’s the big deal? Just ask. ‘Do you have a dick, or plans to acquire one in the future? Are you into dick? Excellent.’ Then you’ll know and you can either get the hell over it, or sack up and ask him out.”

 Billy shifted his arm up and glared at Tommy balefully. “It’s not that simple. Hulkling’s a private person. I’m not going to push for more information, especially considering he’s never gone to a meetup, or posted pictures. At least this way-“

“At least this way,” Tommy interrupted, “you can keep pretending, and avoid actually trying to find a real, three-dimensional boyfriend.”

“Ouch.”

“We’re in college, Billy. This is the only time in our lives that we’ll be surrounded by so many hot singles our age, with freely provided social venues for facilitating hookups. And what are you doing? Fusing to your computer.”

“You think you’re helping, but you’re really not.”

“So prove me wrong.” The ball hit him on the forehead, and Tommy unfolded himself from the couch. “Are you in or out tonight? I’m ordering ‘za.”

Billy struggled to sit up, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “I’m in. I have to finish that report for Dr. Jakes, and catch up on my neuro homework. Don’t get pineapple on the whole thing; it’s an abomination against God.”

The pizza showed up without any pineapple on it at all. It was as good as an apology.

* * *

**Hulkling:** Missed you online last night; everything okay?

 **Asgardian:** yeah. Had a lot of homework, that’s all.

Spent time hanging out with Tommy

 **Hulkling:**  he’s been promoted from ‘idiot brother,’ has he? V. good.

 **Asgardian:** He’s cooler than you think

 **Hulkling:**  I’m glad you guys are getting along

 **Asgardian:** What are you up to today?

 **Hulkling:**  same old same. Life drawing class at six tonight; we’re supposed to be getting a new model, so that’ll be interesting. Maybe this one will know more than one pose.

 **Asgardian:** cool.

I meant to ask you

where *do* you go to school? It’s weird, knowing you all this time and never really knowing details’

about your life

 **Hulkling:**  I could have sworn I’d mentioned that already, haven’t I? Way back when I was moving out.

 **Asgardian:** I’m a big old nerd and I forgot

 **Hulkling:**  I’m at Cornell. Upstate from you by, like, a lot

 **Asgardian:** Ooh, big shot ivy leaguer

 **Hulkling:**  whatever

 **Asgardian:** Are you from the East Coast somewhere?

 **Hulkling:**  Are we playing 20 questions?

 **Asgardian:** I bet you’re in a frat (or is it a sorority?)

 **Hulkling:**  Caught! Yeah. I belong to the Eternal Alliance of the Illuminati. We have a house right on the outskirts of Desert Bluffs.

 **Asgardian:** har har

No seriously

 **Hulkling:**  Sorry. Seriously, no Greek for me.

 I have an apartment above a Hellmouth, and I pay my monthly rent in the blood and souls of the innocent.

 **Asgardian:** wertyuiop[]\

   ..........

 **Hulkling:**  ?

  Hello?

 **Asgardian:** I’m so sorry. I swear none of that was me. I was in class and my idiot brother thought it would be funny to harass you. Tell me I don’t have to go kill him and display his skin above the door.

 **Hulkling:**  It’s okay! No ritual purgation needed. I guessed.

 **Asgardian:** You did?

 **Hulkling:**  You have your developmental psych lab from three to five today. And that wasn’t your typing. your pauses are different.

 **Asgardian:**...

you recognize my pauses?

 **Hulkling:**  I’ve said too much.

 **Asgardian:** No! No, that’s... probably one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me.

 **Hulkling:**  I feel for your sad little existence.

* * *

  
  
 

Prodigy

| 

Who’s going to NYCC this year?

| 

@Asgardian

@MissAmerica

@Patriot_afk

@Hulkling

@IronLad

@LadyHawkguy

MarvelBoy

Prodigy

Stature

Vision

KidLoki

   
  
---|---|---  
  
MissAmerica

| 

It’s too far to travel for me. Any chance of anyone coming to Dragoncon next year?  
  
Vision

| 

I might be able to attend (Dragoncon, that is). Not NYCC.  
  
Asgardian

| 

I wish. I’ll have to see. @Hulkling – are you going?  
  
Hulkling

| 

I dunno. It sounds like fun, but I’m not sure.  
  
MarvelBoy

| 

What’s stopping you?  
  
Hulkling

| 

I’ve never done a meetup before!  
  
LadyHawkguy

| 

Pinging you  
  
KidLoki

| 

BRAAAAAAAAPPPPPP  
  
_Channel Message_

| 

_KidLoki has been kicked by MissAmerica (don’t let the door hit your a$$ on the way out)_  
  
Stature

 

| 

Oh phooey. I’ll be at NYCC, but just for a day. I could only talk mom into letting me get a Friday pass. If there’s going to be a meetup can we do it then?  
  
IronLad

| 

Yeah, sure! It would be good to have you there.  
  
_Channel Message_

| 

_KidLoki has joined channel #avengers_mansion_  
  
KidLoki

| 

Nerrrrrrrrrrrdrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrds  
  
_Channel Message_

| 

_*KidLoki has been kicked and banhammered by MissAmerica (and stay out!)_  
  
_Channel Message_

| 

*Patriot_afk is now known as Patriot  
  
Patriot

| 

I’m going. I booked off work so I have the whole four days.  
  
Stature

| 

Awesome!  
  
Prodigy

| 

Anyone planning cosplay? There’s the Marvel photoshoot on Sunday.  
  
LadyHawkguy

| 

A few, at least; I’m bringing rule 63 Hawkeye; I should have the arrows finished by then. Patriot’s doing Bucky. And if Hulkling _comes_ , we’ll have a group of three...  
  
IronLad

| 

I’ll have the armor ready by then; that’s four.  
  
Hulkling

| 

Alright already! You’re persuasive. (make her stop pinging me; she’s making me uncomfortable. ;) )  
  
Asgardian

| 

Seriously? _Seriously?_ Damn it. Now I need to find a way to go.  
  
Stature

| 

OMG, guys. That would be amazing!  
  
 

* * *

 

 **Kate Bishop:**   You’re not already planning to go?

 **Asgardian:** Alas, no

 **Kate Bishop:**   don’t you live close? I thought you were *in* NYC

 **Asgardian:** yeah; no cash flow so close to the beginning of term. I haven’t been getting enough hours at the store and my parents are big on ‘self-sufficiency for non-necessities.’

 **Kate Bishop:**   Meaning?

 **Asgardian:** They’re paying for the non-scholarship parts of my tuition, textbooks, food and rent. I pay to have a life.

 **Kate Bishop:**  Sounds fair

 **Asgardian:** Says the girl whose daddy covers her platinum card

 **Kate Bishop:**   Don’t hate me because I’m perfect

 **Asgardian:** I don’t. I hate you b/c you’re going to NYCC. Are you getting a hotel room?

 **Kate Bishop:**   I booked one with Patriot and Hulkling yesterday. It’s going to be a party.

   You should come and hang out at the hotel with us. Even if you don’t go to the con.

 **Asgardian:** Hang on – do you already know Hulkling? Like, in real life?

 **Kate Bishop:**    We go to the same college. He and Patriot have known each other since high school; he’s the one who introduced us.

 **Asgardian:** Hulkling _is_ a he?

 **Kate Bishop:**    ... yes?

 Oh shit. You didn’t know?

 **Asgardian:** no. Was I supposed to?

 **Kate Bishop:**  Damn! You guys have been joined at the virtual hip for so long; I assumed he’d have said something by now.

  Asgardian? [knocks on screen]

 **Asgardian:** hang on. Having a moment.

 **Kate Bishop:**   This is going to be good.

 **Asgardian:** I just assumed

 **Kate Bishop:**   What? That you were the only guy out there shipping Tony/Steve? Pls. You’re not that much of a shiny unicorn, sweetcheeks.

 **Asgardian:** what does he look like?

 **Kate Bishop:**   Hulkling? ... he’s okay. Just your garden standard 6’ tall blond-haired-blue-eyed perfectly ripped Adonis. I’m dressing him up as WWII Cap. It’s going to be awesome.

 **Asgardian:** I hate you.

 **Kate Bishop:**   Seriously. You will kick yourself if you miss this.

 **Asgardian:** insert every rolling-eyes gif that you can think of, right here.

 **Kate Bishop:**   Insert ‘em yourself. You know where.

**Asgardian:**

****

* * *

  ** _His hands shaking, Steve popped the catches on Iron Man’s helmet to release the faceplate. The Iron Man suit was dented and sparking, pieces of it obviously past repair. He couldn’t be – no! Steve had to trust that the suit had done its job and protected the man inside. And now Steve had to do his part. Iron Man would hate this, having his identity revealed with no say in the matter, but there was no time – he was wasting time even now, when he should be –_**

 **_The faceplate slid up and there he was, his face streaked with blood, bruised and purpling. But his lips were parted and air rushed between them, and Steve hauled on the rest of the armor to try and break him free._ ** **Iron Man was Tony Stark.**

 **_That simply wasn’t fair. How could someone so bold, so resourceful, and balls-out_ ** **brave, _one of the finest fighters Steve had known since his days with the Commandos, also be the man who had haunted Steve’s more fervent late-night fantasies? What right did he have to be_ beautiful _as well as perfec-_**

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Billy backspaced through most of the last paragraph, then saved the file and shoved his computer back on the desk.

This was ridiculous. Kate was messing with him; she had to be. _6’ tall blond-haired-blue-eyed perfectly ripped Adonis._ Guys who looked like that didn’t spend their time goofing off online, or refusing to post pictures. They modeled and showed off their muscles, hung out with people like Tommy and his friends, went clubbing and to football games.

They dated boys a lot hotter than Billy.

It would be better if he didn’t go to the con. Hulkling had seen pictures of Billy, sure, but only the ones he’d chosen to post. The ones where he looked like a semi-functional human being. Seeing him in real life would just bring home the kind of scrawny, vaguely hopeless nerd that Billy really was, and getting shot down in person would be a lot worse than pining from a distance. At least this way he’d get to keep their friendship.

Assuming Kate wasn’t messing with him.

Because she could _totally_ be screwing with him, and Billy would show up at NYCC to find out that Hulkling was really Kate’s older sister, or something.

And then he would have to kill them both. But it might be better than having final confirmation that he was dreaming way, _way_ out of his league.

* * *

**Asgardian:** So, uh. No easy segue into this, but. Kate told me you're a guy?

 **Hulkling:**  She did? Oh.

That’s okay, though; it’s *you*.

 I thought you might already know.

 **Asgardian:** Suspected, maybe? but then all the pics of Chris Evans' butt, and it's not like you ever post pictures of yourself. You could be a midwestern soccer mom for all I really know

 **Hulkling:**  definitely not a mom. Or into soccer. Basketball, yeah.

 Here, so you can’t say I never tell you anything: guy, 21, into guys, not so into labels. Third year at Cornell, which I know you know.

 seriously. Is this going to be a problem?

 **Asgardian:** what? No! Nonono. No problem. I'm also a gay.

I mean a guide.

FUCK autocorrect.

 **Hulkling:**  breathe, A.

 **Asgardian:** I am. A guy. A gay guy. Also. As well.

 **Hulkling:**  I knew that. For the record.

 **Asgardian:** see? This is why there is a serious power imbalance problem in this relationship.

 uh

 **Hulkling:**  Relationship?

 **Asgardian:** so that just happened. Kill me.

 **Hulkling:**  I’m laughing at you a lot right now.

 **Asgardian:** sure, mock my existential crisis. Don't mind me. So. Graceful exit, stage left, pursued by a bear! Teen Wolf! Did you watch the season finale yet?

 **Hulkling:**  yes! (smooth deflection. Don’t think this conversation is over.) Shirtless + sarcasm : stupid plot hole ratio was nice and high. A quality hour of tv.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ComicCon!

“You’re saying yes, and you’re taking me with you.” Billy leaned heavily on Tommy’s shoulder, the text from Tommy’s boss bright and beautiful on the phone sitting on their kitchen table.

“Why would I do that?” Tommy made a face up at him, coffee mug in his hands. “You don’t work for the webcast; you’re not even a communications student. The second hall pass is supposed to be for a freshman to haul my gear around, not so you can get in to merge with the great Brony collective.”

Billy waved him off. It was too coincidental, the timing too perfect. It was _meant to be_ , and who was he to ignore _fate_? “So show me how to run your equipment, I’ll follow you around and do whatever. But you’re right, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyebrows went up at the admission, and Billy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not going to get closure on the Hulkling thing either way if I don’t do something. So this is me, doing something about it.”

“Aww,” Tommy cooed. “Baby brother’s all grown up now and striking out on his own. I’m so proud.”

“One of these days your face is going to stick that way.” Billy un-dug his elbow from Tommy’s shoulder and wandered back over to the coffee pot. Ten minutes before he had to start running to make it to class; plenty of time to tank up again.

“Who’s to say it hasn’t already?” Tommy picked up his phone and started poking at a reply. “If I get you in to this thing, you’re my slave for the weekend. I have to bring in usable interview footage or I’ll be back on the phones cold-calling sponsors for the rest of my practicum.”

“Deal.” Billy put his hand over his heart.

Then, and only then, the doubt started creeping back in. He was going to meet _Hulkling_. He was going to _meet Hulkling._ “I hope I’m not making a big mistake,” he muttered.

The grin spread on Tommy’s face as he typed on his phone. “Stop stressing yourself out. If Hulkling turns out to be a girl after all, you guys can braid each other’s hair and paint each other’s nails at sleepovers all year.”

“I swear to God, Tommy-“

“But if Hulkling _does_ turn out to be your dream guy, then when you fall in love and adopt bea-you-tiful gaybies, you have to name the first one after Uncle Tommy.” He dropped his phone on the table with a clatter and a flourish.

“If you think I’m naming anything after you – except maybe a pitcher plant-” Billy grumbled at him. “Anyway, it’s not like it’ll matter.” He sat down with a defeated sigh. “Hulkling’s amazing, and I’m... me.”

Tommy smacked him on the back of the head, and Billy narrowly missed splashing coffee across his hand. “Shut up.”

“Ow! I said _me_ -”

“We’re twins, butthead. Frankly, anyone would be lucky to have a shot with either of us. So figure out what horrible mockery of a costume you’re going to make, and go get him. Your whining is getting annoying.” He pushed his chair back and left the kitchen, the water turning on in the bathroom a moment later.  

Billy slumped in his chair and turned the mug around in his hands, ripples forming and subsiding in the black coffee inside. The elation was still there, fizzing and bubbling inside, but dread was creeping in around the edges and tainting everything it touched. “This,” he sighed to the empty kitchen, “is going to be a train wreck.”

* * *

**Asgardian:** It looks like I’m going to NYCC after all

 **Hulkling:**  That’s awesome! How did you swing it? Did you end up getting your Thursday shifts back?

 **Asgardian:** No such luck (though that does mean I’m actually getting my readings done on time). Tommy got two passes from work and he’s giving me one. I have to help him out for some of the con, but I’ll be able to hang out, even if I don’t make it to any of the panels. ... I guess I have to stop calling him ‘stupid’ after all.

You’re definitely going?

 **Hulkling:**  Yeah. It’s all confirmed – I paid Kate for my share of the room this week.

 **Asgardian:** You don’t think this is going to be a bit weird?

 **Hulkling:**  Isn’t that what conventions are supposed to be?

 **Asgardian:** I mean meeting everyone in real life, after all this time

 **Hulkling:**  I already know Kate and Eli (that’s Patriot), so that’s not too bad. But that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?

 **Asgardian:** Not really.

What if it’s anticlimactic? What if we don’t get along, or we can’t talk to each other face to face the way we can talk like this? I’m not exactly cool in real life.

 **Hulkling:**  I hate to break it to you, but you’re not exactly cool online, either.

 **Asgardian:** [[raspberry.wav]](http://comics.shipsinker.com/ardatli_wip/blowraspberry.wav)

   Thanks ever so much.

 **Hulkling:** You don’t think I’m worried about the same thing?

 **Asgardian:** Why would you be? You’ve got backup!

 **Hulkling:**  Sure, but when you get down to it, no-one in the fandom actually knows me. And yeah, it’s my own fault – I keep a lot of stuff private. And it’s easy to be funny or interesting over a computer screen, when you’re talking into the void, or there’s time to think of responses.

 But it means that everyone except Kate and Eli – and that includes you too... you’ve all got these versions of me in your heads and the real me ... isn’t that.

 I don’t think I can live up to that rep.

 I’m not actually that cool either.

 **Asgardian:** Calling bullshit.

 **Hulkling:**  On what part?

 **Asgardian:** I think you’re pretty damn cool. And I’ve *seen* your itunes library.

 **Hulkling:**  Says Mr. Showtune.

 **Asgardian:** Love me, love my Sondheim.

 **Hulkling:**  You drive a hard bargain.

So where are we meeting up at this thing?

 **Asgardian:** Kate said the convention center lobby, Friday morning?

 **Hulkling:**  Sounds good. I’ll be tagging along with her for most things, I think; at least until I find my way around. I’ll be wearing WWII Captain America – Kate’s been helping me with it and it’s almost done.

 **Asgardian:** Iron Man, represent. It’ll be pretty limited; I have to be able to cart around cameras and stuff.

 **Hulkling:**  It’ll be good, I’m sure. I’ll recognize you from your pictures anyway

 **Asgardian:** do I get to see any of you beforehand?

 **Hulkling:**  Nope. I want to get the chance to say hi in person before you run screaming.

 **Asgardian:** Oh yeah, like that’s likely.

 **Hulkling:**  Gimme a sec.

 

 **Hulkling:**  Here. This is me.

 **Asgardian:** Yeah, that’s about how I pictured you.

 **Hulkling:**  two-dimensional and scribbled?

 **Asgardian:** Suspiciously resembling Barney Rubble

**Hulkling**

 

 **Asgardian:** Remind me again why I’m looking forward to spending a weekend with you?

 **Hulkling:**  Brain damage.

* * *

* * *

Chaos. Total, unmitigated chaos. Even the press passes didn’t help that much in that kind of crowd, and wading their way through the ravening hordes left Billy disoriented, confused and not a little bit overwhelmed. Also, exhilarated, and late for the meetup.

There was a small group already gathered by the cluster of couches, all of them in Avengers cosplay, which made it simpler to pick them out. He recognized Kate; that was easy enough, from her photos and the female Hawkeye costume she had been blogging about since she started putting it together. Her long dark hair fell loose, held back by a pair of purple sunglasses.

The guy next to her dressed as old-school Bucky Barnes had to be Patriot (Eli. His real name was Eli, but remembering one name was bad enough, never mind more). There was a wicked-looking Iron Man armor nearby, showing off his gauntlets, and Billy’s arc-reactor t-shirt and hoodie suddenly felt ridiculously shabby by comparison.

And Iron Man (Iron Lad, presumably) was talking to... _holy god in heaven_.

Billy flattened himself back against the pillar and tried to breathe deeply. His heart rate skyrocketed and the edges of his vision blacked out a little bit before he got the onrush of the panic attack under control, because that guy in the Captain America costume was easily the most perfect human being Billy had ever seen in his life.

And he had spent an embarrassing amount of time with the Winter Soldier set photos.

The guy in the costume was tall, taller than Patriot and Iron Lad, and definitely taller than Billy. He was holding the helmet and gesturing at it as he spoke, which left his head bare. His golden-blond hair was gelled back, his jaw was square and the word ‘chiseled’ didn’t even _begin_ to cover the spectrum of words that should exist to describe its perfection.

He wanted to bite it, just to be sure the guy was real.

Billy snuck another peek at Cap’s broad shoulders, how they squared off under the perfect replica jacket, the way the buckles skimmed down a chest that had to be illegal, especially on guys their age. If he just turned a bit to the side, then Billy could get a clear view of his-

It had to be him. Unless he wasn’t here yet.

But Hulkling was supposed to have driven down with Kate and Patriot, and he was planning to dress as Cap. And _this_ guy was with Kate and Patriot, and dressed as Cap, and he was probably about six feet tall-

Y _our garden standard 6’ tall blond-haired-blue-eyed perfectly ripped Adonis._

He was going to kill her, slowly. And then possibly himself. Because there was no way on earth that he, skinny Billy Kaplan with ears that stuck out kind of funny, and hair that never stayed combed, could ever go up and talk to Mr. Perfect-jaw Abercrombie and Fitch.

“I’m telling all your internet friends that you’re a creepy creeping creeper.” Tommy spoke loudly, right in Billy’s ear, and Billy practically levitated out of his crappy-ass chucks in shock.

“I’m not going,” Billy moaned, sitting his face in his hands and sliding slowly down the pillar to sit in a crumpled heap on the tiled floor. “ _Look_ at him, Tommy. He’ll take one look at... this...” Billy waved up and down in a general attempt to include the entirety of his patheticness – “and realize what a sad, dorky nerd I really am.”

“If he hasn’t realized that by now there’s no hope for him at all, and you need to look for someone smarter,” Tommy said. He probably thought he was being reasonable, too.

Billy fiddled with the handle of the plastic bag in his hand. Theoretically, there was nothing stopping him from getting up and walking out. Except that the whole point of selling himself to Tommy in indentured servitude for the weekend had been geared toward this. Right now, this moment, this culmination of three years of caring about this guy, moaning about school together, _creating_ together, feeling worse than helpless because he couldn’t reach out and hold him when he was sad-

Right. “I’m being ridiculous,” Billy said, and for once, Tommy didn’t snark back. He just grabbed Billy’s hand and hauled him to his feet.

Hood up? Hood down? Hood down. Billy tugged at his shirt, shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out again, and toyed with the handle of the bag. The lobby seemed huge, took forever to cross, and at the other end, a man in a red, white and blue suit that was cut way too snug for Billy’s sanity.

Conversations died down as they approached, and pretty soon Billy and Tommy were being given the once-over by about seven pairs of eyes. He lifted a hand in a half-assed wave. “Asgardian,” he introduced himself, just as the light of recognition went on for Kate and Hulkling. “Billy. This is my brother, Tommy.”

“Hi!!” A slim blonde girl in an Avengers t-shirt half-tackled him from the side, and he caught her purely by reflex. “It’s Stature,” she laughed as she let him go after a quick hug. “Cassie.” Which made sense, now that he thought about it, the pictures of her were always slightly out of focus, and blurry. And speaking of blurs – introductions and hand shaking and names whipped by until Billy was standing in front of Hulkling. He was watching Billy avidly, and his eyes were the most incredible blue.

“Teddy,” Hulkling said, and his voice was gentler than Billy had imagined it, warmer and rounder, somehow, like listening to a hug.

“Say what?” Billy heard himself say, from a vague and hazy distance, and someone needed to shoot him, like, now.

“Everyone calls me Teddy,” Hulkling explained. “Those who don’t call me Hulkling, anyway. It’s going to be weird trying to remember two sets of names.” He extended his hand to Billy

Billy took it, and his hand was broad and warm, larger than Billy’s, but only by a little. He had a firm handshake, and the muscles in his arms shifted alarmingly under the suit.

Hulkling’s name was Teddy, and Billy was shaking his hand.

“He’s having a little meltdown; don’t mind him,” Tommy said dryly, and that brought Billy’s focus back into the here-and-now.

“Billy,” he said, and Teddy was laughing, and still not letting go of his hand. “Biological unit experiencing major cognitive dissonance,” Billy said, finding his footing. He let go, regretting it the instant Teddy’s hand slipped out of his, and he gave him a lopsided grin. “Please hold while unit reboots.”

“We have normality,” Teddy quipped. “I repeat we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem.” And just like that, as simple as that, it all snapped back into place. Billy’s shoulders unclenched and his feet were on the floor again. This wasn’t just some ridiculously gorgeous cosplayer he was nerding out over; this was Hulkling. Teddy. And Teddy liked him.

And he was still holding the bag. Billy held it out, waggling it in response to Teddy’s questioning eyebrow. “Here. This is for you.”

Teddy opened the bag. “A comic?” Then he pulled it out and his eyes lit up; his whole face glowed with that flash of delight and pleasure, and it should have been impossible for him to get any more gorgeous than he already was. Somehow that did it. _Unfair_. A rush of warmth burned through Billy from his middle, burning out to the tips of his fingers and toes. _I did that._

“The Coipel sketch cover,” Billy explained. Unnecessary, since he was looking at it, but the words tumbled out anyway. “You mentioned you couldn’t find it and I happened to see it in the store, so I grabbed it for you. I was going to find a way to drop it in the mail, but this worked better.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that!”

He could see Tommy out of the corner of his eye, giving him an incredulous look. Billy glared at him, but Teddy had slipped the comic out of the mylar bag and was exclaiming over it, which was much more important.

“How many was it really?” Kate asked Tommy, not quite out of Billy’s earshot.

“Five stores and a freakout at an online vendor.”

Kate laughed. “I like you. You can stay.”

“This is great; thank you.” Teddy slipped the comic bag into the protective bag reverently and folded the top back down. His hands moved carefully and deliberately; his fingers had spots of color on them, and a faint grayish stain on his middle finger where a pencil would sit. Artist’s hands.

_Draw me like one of your French girls._

He was staring, and Teddy was about to catch him at it. Billy looked away just in time to see Tommy surreptitiously check his watch.

“Where’s Prodigy?” Eli asked.

Nate answered. “He’s volunteering; I think he’s on green room duty today. We’ll see him at some point.”

Teddy looked at Billy and smiled; for a minute he looked sheepish, almost _shy_ somehow. It was incongruous, and endearing, and Billy couldn’t help but smile back, something fluttery and awful-wonderful blooming in the middle of his chest. _God, how_ – _you – how are you even_ you _?_

That made no sense. Thank God his brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t entirely disabled, or he would have to sink through the floor right here and die. He might anyway.

“And this is for you,” Teddy said, holding out a small plastic bag. Billy took it and their fingers brushed – _what am I, 12? Holy shit_ – and he didn’t care.  He didn’t. The little ziplock was harder to open than it should have been, Teddy watching him do it, then looking up at his face, then back to his hands as Billy tipped the open bag – finally, finally! – and dumped a molded-plastic chibi Captain America keychain into his hand.

Billy ran his fingers over the bumpy surface, warm from being in Teddy’s pocket. “Hey, cool!”

“I couldn’t find the exact one from when you lost your keys this summer, but that one looked close,” Teddy apologized, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking up at Billy through his bangs like he was embarrassed or unsure about something. _That_ was so Hulkling, somehow, translated into the physical.

“It’s perfect,” he enthused. “It’s completely awesome. I haven’t gotten a new keychain yet, so-”

“Yeah, I know.” Teddy finished his sentence early, and that dumb-awkward smile of his came back again full-force. “Are you coming around with us today?” Billy could almost see the cadence of his words translating into the way he typed. That made it all the much more familiar and easy, but he still had to shake his head, which was just about the worst thing ever.

“We’re going to have to go work,” Billy apologized. “Tommy’s supposed to be doing interviews and getting b-roll stuff this morning, and I’m the hired help.”

Teddy shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said, but he looked disappointed, and that made Billy’s heart do some kind of complicated somersault inside his stomach. “I think we’re getting in line for a panel – whether we get in or not, I’ll be done by twelve. Can we meet up somewhere, maybe get lunch?”

This did _not_ count as a date, so Billy needed to stop thinking that way immediately. “Yes, _yes_. Definitely. Somewhere we can actually hear ourselves think.”

Teddy looked around them, at the clusters and mobs of people, greeting each other, pushing past each other, loaded down with bags and flyers and massive foam props. “Good luck with that this weekend. Meet you back here at noon?”

The fires of hell itself could not keep Billy away. He nodded, and was rewarded with another one of those small, happy smiles that started things fluttering in the general region of his stomach. 

“I’ll be here.”   

* * *

       

* * *

One nice thing about New York – especially on Comic Con weekend, but it would hold true anyway – was that no-one batted an eye when a practically movie-perfect Captain America and a low-rent closet-cosplay Iron Man grabbed a table at a cheap noodle place not far from the convention center. The gut-punch on seeing Teddy across the lobby the second time had been a little easier to breathe through than the first one, but then Teddy’s arm had brushed against Billy’s while they were walking down the street, and he hadn’t shifted away. Billy’s arm was still warm as he slid into his seat, and he imagined he could feel it throbbing gently, just at that spot.

Conversation was so much easier, though; something had clicked over and it were as though they were sitting in chat, except _better._ Billy had never quite pictured Teddy, obviously, and so hadn’t anticipated the way he gestured in the air when he was excited about something, or the way he seemed to always have a pen in his hand, or in his belt, or behind his ear. Or how he would stop and pose for pictures with every little kid who wanted a photograph of Captain America, smiling the same warm, easy smile every time.

Billy’s imagination was obviously far too limited in scope.

The restaurant was busy, but nothing as bad as the convention center itself, and Billy let himself relax a bit into the hard plastic chair. “I’m amazed that Eli and Kate didn’t kill each other on the drive down,” he said, picking up on the conversation again. “Are they always at each other’s throats?”

“Not always,” Teddy said, dropping his bag on the chair beside him and dumping the helmet along with it. He ruffled his hands through his hair, only managing to disturb some of what Kate had shellacked down that morning, and a handful of blond strands fell haphazardly over his forehead. “Just most of the time. Kate drove, so I was on Eli-distraction duty. Don’t ever play chess with him for money, by the way. He kicked my ass three times in a row.”

Billy was close enough, that if he dared, he could reach out and brush Teddy’s bangs back off his forehead, just- swipe gently at them and push them out of his eyes, and find out what his skin felt like. He played with his water glass instead, ran his fingers across the condensation on the cool surface.  “Maybe you just suck at chess,” he pointed out, and Teddy grinned.

“Maybe. But I’m stuck in the car with him again for the drive back, so I have two days to get better, or find something else to keep him from backseat driving. Hang on – that’s our number.” Teddy was up to grab their trays before Billy could push back his chair. Billy watched him go, with a flare of hot jealousy directed at Kate, along with anyone else who had helped out with Teddy’s costume fittings.

Settled back a few minutes later, Teddy doused just about everything with way more hot sauce than should be legal. _Aha! An actual flaw._ That was more reassuring than anything else so far, silly as it seemed.

Because Hulkling had flaws. He was stupidly insecure about his art and took criticism way too much to heart, for one. Every rude anon message he got meant another email in Billy’s inbox fretting about color palettes, or shading, or characterization. _Teddy_ wasn’t any of that, at least not to look at him. He moved through the world like he was totally at ease with it, while Billy, more prone to tell his critics to go fuck themselves, was all knees, elbows and flailing in meatspace. Reconciling the two realities was weirder than he’d predicted. 

“You’re not staying at any of the hotels, right? You live in town?” Teddy asked after a minute.

Billy nodded. “It’s not too far; we’re in student housing in the West Village. It’s a tiny place, but makes getting to class a lot easier than if we still lived at home.”

“I used to hang out in that area when I was in high school,” Teddy confessed, wielding his chopsticks like a pro. “There was a sculpture gallery there for a while that didn’t mind a teenager camping out and sketching. It was less intimidating than a life drawing class with Real Naked People.”

The mental image was wonderful, a younger Teddy, bent over a sketchbook with charcoal or pastels or something smearing his fingers, finding himself a space where he could enjoy art purely for the thrill of it, not for any assignment or project. But that wasn’t the thing that made Billy’s eyes go wide and his head tilt as he tried to parse out what Teddy had just said.

“Wait a minute. You used to hang out in New York?”

“Sure,” Teddy shrugged, and his eyes were shining – not quite with laughter, but close. “I’m from here. I grew up in Brooklyn. I was hoping to see my mom this weekend, but she had a business trip.”

No. No no _no_ – “You’ve _got_ to be kidding.” Billy had stopped eating, hand still in mid-air. Every one of those early conversations he’d had with Hulkling started to play back in his mind. Had Teddy ever once said, or suggested- _when did I miss my chance?_ If they’d met back then, if he’d had Teddy in his life as more than just a handful of lines on the screen, waiting for him when he got home from school- how much would have been different? Better?

“Not a word of a lie,” Teddy said, apparently oblivious to the turmoil that was sending Billy spinning. “I went to Manhattan High.”

“So that summer we met online,” Billy stabbed his chopsticks accusingly in Teddy’s direction.

Teddy’s smile turned rueful, with something that might have been a flash of regret. Good. It served him right. “We were living in the same city and didn’t know it.”

“I could cry for all these wasted years.”

“Were they really wasted, though?” Teddy asked. His expression went pensive and his voice softened. A shadow settled over him, nothing tangible, but an air of ill-defined sadness that made him look older. “I don’t think you’d have liked me very much back then. Not the offline me. This way was better.” 

Billy gave in to impulse. He grabbed Teddy’s free hand across the table, cupped it in his and squeezed tightly. Teddy looked up at him, surprised, and after a beat, closed his hand around Billy’s. “I like the offline you now,” Billy said, and the tips of Teddy’s ears went pink.

The door jangled open and a crowd of Homestucks pushed past their table, and Teddy pulled his hand away to grab his pop and stop it from falling. The thread that had been spinning between them vanished again, the moment gone.

“How is it,” Billy said after a few minutes, the conversation back to lighter things, “that I know your daily schedule, your favorite art pen brand and price points, and your top five sexual fetishes, but I don’t actually know your last name?”

Teddy paused, his color bright, then laughed. “Because Internet?”

“Fair.”

“Here-” Teddy dropped his chopsticks on his plate and wiped his hands off on his napkin. “Give me your phone.” Billy handed it across the table and Teddy bent his head over the screen, his bangs falling into his face again. A beep sounded from inside one of Teddy’s pouches, and he handed the phone back. “Now you have my name and number, and I’ve got yours. Use it wisely. With great power comes great responsibility,” he intoned solemnly.

 _Teddy Altman_ , the entry read. _607-555-1707._

“Pleased to meet you, Teddy Altman,” Billy extended his hand again, because he would take any chance he could get to be close, even if it was just for a second. “I’m Billy Kaplan.”

“Charmed,” Teddy laughed, grabbing Billy’s hand in his, and there was a promise there in the heat of his skin that Billy would cling to for the rest of his life. “I’m sure.”

* * *

    

* * *

“Why would Eli need two different kinds of batteries?” Teddy dropped his phone back into one of the pouches looped onto his costume belt and picked up his pen again. Little doodles curled over and around the paper placemat, covering most of the white space. Chibi Billys and Teddys hung from the restaurant logo, and half-sketched out Avengers battled for space with doodles of the cashier and some of the other cosplayers taking over most of the restaurant’s cheap formica tables.

Billy shrugged, and fished around on Teddy’s plate to find a dumpling that wasn’t soaked in red hot death sauce. “World conquering?”

Teddy added a moustache to a half-done Tuxedo Mask, capped his pen and tucked it away. “We should probably go,” he said apologetically. “There’s a line out the door and we’re starting to get dirty looks from the staff.”

They stood, Billy scraping his chair back reluctantly, and a couple of kids with trays hovered anxiously behind them waiting for the table to clear. He snagged the placemat, folded it up as Teddy tried to grab it from him.

“Don’t keep that,” Teddy objected and lunged to try and snag it again. “It’s just doodles. I’ll draw you something better later.”

“I’ll never say no to that,” Billy replied, but tugged the paper out of Teddy’s fingertips and stuffed it into his pocket before Teddy could make another grab. “But I’m still keeping these. Call it a memento.”

“It better not be a trophy,” Teddy cautioned him, dumping their trays and heading for the door. “Are you one of those internet serial killers we’ve all been warned about?”

“If I was, would I confess it now, or wait until you were in my clutches in private?”

“I’ll have to make sure we’re never alone together, then.”

“Curses. Foiled again.” Billy paused before the door and grabbed for his wallet. “Hang on. I need to pay.”

Teddy shook his head, and grabbed for the door handle. “I took care of it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck when Billy stared at him, and looked up through his bangs. “I was the one who asked you to lunch, remember? You can get it next time.”

That sounded suspiciously like a date. Was it a date? If he came out and _asked_ , then he’d be telling Teddy that he hadn’t, in fact, been thinking of it as anything date-like when he’d said yes, and that might mean not getting a chance at another, official date. And if he was wrong, and it hadn’t been a date, and he asked, then it might make things awkward, because who wanted to think that they’d been accidentally dating someone they weren’t actually interested in? Unless this was a _sign_ of interest that Billy was supposed to pick up on, but then why didn’t he just come out and _say_ something? Because then Billy would know for sure and his brain wouldn’t have to run around in circles like a hamster on meth just to try and figure out what he was supposed to say next.

“Sure, thanks. I’ll definitely get it. Next time.” Was what he ended up saying. _Fabulous, Kaplan. Nice job there. Very eloquent._

Teddy pushed the door open, his expression thoughtful, and let him go through first.

* * *

  
  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conventions are supposed to be fun, right?

“Ah, fuck.” Tommy scowled at his watch, unfolding himself from the chair he’d been sprawled over for the past hour... or two; Billy had lost all track of time. Teddy sat on the floor beside him, their backs against the wall and a stack of comics, flyers and signed photos between them. Tomorrow’s schedule was in Billy’s lap, all marked up with red and green from their attempts to work out the perfect route for maximum coverage the next day.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asked, looking up.

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something?” Teddy stretched, pulling his arms up over his head. His undershirt, long since untucked from his uniform pants, dragged up along his side, his jacket off and tossed in the pile of their stuff on the floor. The movement exposed a sliver of skin, paler than his arms, and a hint of shadow that pointed toward his abs-

Billy’s breath caught and he had to force his eyes away, rather than get caught staring like... like a creepy creeping creeper. Which he totally was.

Tommy snorted. “No, but it means we missed our train.”

 _Ah, shit._ “We could walk home,” Billy suggested glumly, his good mood shattering. The idea of leaving the warm hotel lobby to stumble home in the cold fall air made his whole body recoil. “Or find a cab-“

“On a Friday night?” Tommy’s derision was palpable, and Billy shrugged in response. “Good luck.”

Teddy slouched forward, resting his arms on his bent knees, and his shoulders were just as unfair as that hint of skin had been. Billy wanted to lean closer and rest against his side for a while, and just feel the heat and strength of those arms around him. Or better yet, turn around and lick him, run his tongue along the sinuous lines of those arms, up to his shoulder and the sweet spot where it met his throat. Or even _better_ , drop to his knees in front of him and unzip those stupidly tight blue pants, and-

 _Dammit._ Billy curled his knees up to his chest and begged the ephemeral forces of the universe for mercy. Please, please don’t let either of them notice his face flushing pink, or the ache in his groin that was his own damn fault for dwelling on unrealistic, hopeless fantasies.

Teddy definitely hadn’t noticed, because if he had, he would never have said what he did.  “Come crash in our room, then. We’ve got space. I brought an air mattress, and there’s a couch. I’m sure Kate won’t mind.”

No-one could blame Billy for dying a little bit inside. Or tripping for over his own feet when it finally seemed safe to stand up, stepping on his untied shoelace and all but landing in Teddy’s lap. 

Tommy pulled a muscle laughing, and blamed it on Billy. He couldn’t entirely bring himself to care.

Kate also didn’t care. Kate apparently thought the twins crashing with them was a brilliant idea. Billy probably should have been more concerned about that. By one in the morning, though, with costumes exchanged for sweats and pajamas, the six of them throwing popcorn at each other and a SyFy shark marathon on the big-screen tv, he’d completely forgotten to wonder.

Kate had claimed one of the king-sized beds as her own private demesne, and no-one was arguing. At least not aloud. Eli and Nate were heads-together on the other, components from some kind of RC system spread out on the comforter between them, and Tommy was sprawled on the long couch, his feet up over the arm, noisily typing away on his laptop.

That left Billy and Teddy sitting on the air mattress on the floor at the foot of Kate’s bed, mostly ignoring the arguments that erupted every once in a while from the other side.

“Because you can’t _connect_ those two; it’ll fry the circuit.”

“That’s only if we run it all full capacity.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“And you’re not thinking this through.”

“Do you think if they just kiss and get it over with, they’ll stop bickering?” Billy asked, and Teddy started to laugh and cough together, his soda can at his mouth. He tried to swallow, choked on air, and Billy thumped him on the back a handful of times until his face turned back from red to something more like a healthy pink.

“Slick,” Billy snickered.

“Your fault.” Teddy drank again, then crunched the can and tossed it toward the recycling bin in the corner of the room. It hit dead center, and Teddy grinned. “Nothin’ but net.” He lowered his voice when he spoke next, glancing up at the bed as though to make sure no-one else was listening. “In any case, Eli’s straight, so I don’t think Nate’s an option there. He’s kind of hung up on Kate, anyway.”

Tired settled in around Billy’s eyes and he sprawled, leaning back against the bed. The air mattress shifted underneath him when he moved, making Teddy wobble. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize that you guys were all at school together.”

“We’re not in the same programs,” Teddy said, and Billy forgave him. “Eli was my roommate first year, though.”

“But not since?”

“He’s kind of a neat freak,” Teddy confessed. “We’re a lot better friends when we don’t have to share a bathroom.” 

 _They_ would be okay, though, if something ever happened. Billy’s half of the medicine cabinet was in a constant state of overflow, and the shower was clean, but forever overrun with sample soaps and things that Tommy liberated from God-knew-where. Teddy’s mess wouldn’t be a bother at all.

Except that it was the most theoretical of theoretical, and stupid to boot. Teddy lived three hours away from NYC, and ... was _him,_ while Billy was _Billy_ , and ne’er the twain would meet. So he needed to stop imagining Teddy’s shampoo bottles in his shower caddy and his towel on the floor, like, yesterday. Teddy flopped onto his back, his hip bumping against Billy’s foot when he did it, and then the jerk _didn’t move_. He just lay there, their bodies casually in contact, oblivious to the electric current that was flowing through Billy up his leg from his barefoot, searing into his chest, and back down the other side.

 _Find something else to think about._ “How is your MCAT prep coming?” Billy asked, his voice cracking. “You’re writing it in the spring, right?”

He had said something wrong; the mood shifted somehow, Teddy’s eyes flickering up to the ceiling and his hands going behind his head. He was trying for casual, trying too hard, and Billy wiggled his toe against Teddy’s hip. Teddy’s shoulders fell. “Not anymore,” he said quietly. “I changed my mind.” Then, with more enthusiasm, the words rushing out of him to make up for his hesitation before: “there’s a Masters in medical illustration at Johns Hopkins that I want to apply for next year. It’s a great program, and it means I can keep taking an art class instead of spending all my time cramming science.”

Billy tried to imagine it, giving up on something he’d wanted for as long as it seemed like Teddy had wanted medicine, but there were too many undercurrents, too many questions that he didn’t have enough background to form properly. “That’s a shift in gears, isn’t it? Do you think you’ll like it better?”

"It’s fewer years of school,” Teddy replied, nudging Billy’s foot with his elbow. “Which is a good thing. And smaller student loans. Besides,” his voice got soft and he stared up at the ceiling, eyes unfocussed and something sad in them. Teddy should never look sad; Billy had to sit on his hands instead of giving in to the urge to reach out, smooth his thumb over Teddy’s forehead and wipe the frowning lines away. “No-one wants a doctor who's going to choke under pressure." It sounded like something he was repeating, a line he'd heard before, and not from himself.

Kate stepped over them on her way back from the bathroom, and clicked off the light. Somewhere in there, Eli and Nate had packed up and rolled into bed, back to back. The TV still flickered, casting Teddy’s face in a series of changing blue and green shadows.

“For what it’s worth,” Billy blurted out, “I think you’d be an amazing doctor.” Teddy smiled, and Billy’s stomach flopped upside down and backwards. The glow from Tommy’s laptop screen disappeared with a click, and a soft thump followed. “I’m sure you’ll be good at this too, though. It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.” Because of course he did.

“I think so,” Teddy murmured, dropping his voice. It was hard to hear him, and Billy shifted without thinking it through, lay down alongside Teddy so that he could hear him better. He stretched out on his front, pillowed his head on his folded arms while Teddy kept talking. “I hope so. I mean, if I don’t get in then it’ll all be for nothing, right? But I’ll never know if I don’t try.”

Billy might have miscalculated. Teddy lay on his back beside him, their sides so close courtesy of the dip in the middle of the air mattress that they might as well have been touching, the soft cotton of Teddy’s t-shirt brushing against Billy’s elbow every time he breathed in. The pillow smelled like him, faintly cologne-musky, hints of cinnamon and warm vanilla.

“What about you?” Teddy was asking, and Billy tipped his head to look at him, resting his cheek on his arms. “Are you any happier in your program? You sounded pretty okay about it in the spring.”

Billy shrugged, as much as he could while lying down. “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know. I chose psych because of my mom, mostly; I knew all the language already, so it was easy at first. I just don’t know if it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.” Teddy’s eyes were the kind of blue that romance novels would compare to summer skies, or cornflowers, ‘pacific-blue’ crayon color, and he watched Billy more intently than anyone ever had before. “How am I supposed to figure out if something could be right forever when I can barely decide what socks I want to wear in the morning?”

The smile on Teddy’s face was less of a smirk and more of a commiseration: sympathy and empathy all rolled up into a ball and shoved into his stupid dimple. “And yet off we go, putting all our eggs in one proverbial basket, and hoping that someone out there will see the value in it.” There was something weird in his voice, soft and sad and hopeful all together.

“There’s no room for wrong choices,” Billy said quietly. He couldn’t stop staring, and Teddy didn’t blink. Something thrummed between them now, new and intangible, a whisper, a ghost of a thought, or a prayer. “The price of failure’s too high.”

“A lifetime of regret?”

It was too much, his breath starting to come faster, heat pooling low in his belly. Teddy’s face was right there – he was lying on a bed with _Hulkling_ , who also happened to be the most beautiful man Billy had ever had the nerve to talk to. This was all going to go somewhere awful in about thirty seconds, because he was going to say something stupid or unforgiveable. “Or forty years of student loans,” he joked, letting go of his end of the thread.

Teddy grinned, dropping his gaze, the moment dissolving away. “About the same thing, really.” He rolled over onto his side, then, but toward Billy instead of away, and that was so, so unfair, because now Billy was warm all the way down his side and it was Teddy’s warmth he was feeling, their bodies still not touching except in the most incidental of ways.

“I don’t get it,” Billy said finally, because he couldn’t _not_ anymore.

“I’ve noticed that,” Teddy teased him. “About so many things.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“How is it that you’re not seeing anyone?” It tumbled out before he could take anything back, but it wasn’t bad – it was just a question, right? He could be asking for purely noble or nosy reasons, and not because every nerve in his body was screaming, every point of contact with Teddy on _fire_. So what if he wanted to roll over and straddle Teddy, rock deep into him and kiss him with tongue, watch the way his face would change when his eyes glazed over and his mouth fell open-

This wasn’t _about_ that. “Is it still because of that guy from high school?”

Teddy looked away. “No.” He rubbed at his forehead, then looked back, a hundred things flickering across his face too quickly to read or name. “Yeah? Sort of. It...  wasn’t a good scene. There were some good parts, and he’s not-” he stammered to a halt, then picked up again before Billy could decide what to say. “Greg’s not a bad person. Not really? But the whole thing was... really not good.” Teddy trailed off. “It’s been easier to just focus on school and stuff. Friends. It’s less complicated that way.” He chewed on his lower lip, not meeting Billy’s eyes.  

 _You’re a jerk, Kaplan._ “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Billy stumbled over his words, but at least Teddy wasn’t turning away from him, or getting up. As long as they lay there together, in their little bubble of dark, it was easier to talk, almost like being safe behind his screen and keyboard, able to say anything and everything that crossed his mind. Only this time he could see Teddy’s face in return, watch the thoughts that raced through his mind as they reflected in his eyes.

 “Don’t be. I never did say thank you properly.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, you did.” Teddy chewed his thumbnail for a second, then balled his hand and dropped it away from his face. “You’re the one who gave me the strength to break it off.”

How did that even make sense? They had met online in the summer before his senior year of high school. Billy had been bored out of his mind and surfing around reading fanfic and trying his hand at writing some, and this new name had popped up in the chat room. They had traded urls, sent some comic downloads back and forth, complained about college applications- nothing at all that would be meaningful now. Not like that.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Billy confessed after a minute of silence stretched out between them. “We never really talked about him, or anything. Not back then.”

Teddy shook his head, still searching Billy’s face for... something. Billy couldn’t begin to guess. “It wasn’t that; it was... everything. Talking to you, seeing how... out there you were, and how comfortable with yourself you were. Are. Other than this weekend, I mean,” he teased gently, and Billy flushed. “And more than that. You cared about what I was saying, cared about _me_ , without even really knowing me.

“It gave me hope, that there were more people like you out there. That not everyone was a Greg.”

Billy forgot how to breathe.

“It sounds so dumb when I say it out loud,” Teddy said. He sounded sheepish, _shy,_ almost, and his cheeks pinked up like he was embarrassed.

“No!” Billy yelped quietly. He shut up again, but there was no sound from any of the others in the room except for the regular sounds of breathing. Someone snored. “It’s not dumb. Not at all. I’m- what am I? I have no idea. I’m flattered. I’m- glad. I’m really, really –” _Dammit, Kaplan!_ “Because that’s good, that you figured things out. And that I helped, even though I had no idea what I was doing.

“...I’m actually amazed that you can parse anything useful at all out of my rambling.”

His smile was... was un-simile-able. It was beautiful enough for Billy to start making up words that would get crossed out in bright red ink if he ever used them in an essay. _That_ was what his smile was like, a little bit uncertain, small at first, then spreading across his whole face so that even his _dimples_ were smiling.

Stupid dimples.

“I like your rambling,” Teddy said quietly.

Teddy’s hand rested against his, the sides brushing together. Teddy wasn’t looking at them; he looked at Billy, then away again. His tongue flickered over his lips in a nervous gesture that left his bottom lip damp, gleaming a little in the silent blue light of the television screen. Teddy’s eyes drifted down and he looked away. _No – regroup_. He wasn’t turning _away_ from Billy’s eyes, he was looking _at_ Billy’s _mouth_ and if Billy tipped his head to the right, just a bit, and leaned in, then-

“Never give up, NEVER SURRENDER!” Someone howled in the hallway, right outside their door. The sound of thumping feet and cheering broke through the 3 AM silence as a rough and unwelcome alarm. “BY GRABTHAR’S HAMMER!”

Teddy jerked away.

Kate erupted out of bed, Tommy sat up on the couch, rubbing his eyes, and the other guys muttered angrily. She wrenched the door open onto the noise, an avenging fury in purple pajamas. “I’ll shove that fucking hammer where you’ll need a proctologist to remove it if you don’t shut _up_! Some people are trying to sleep, assholes!”

Someone in the hallway shouted back and for a moment Billy could see the whole thing devolving into something requiring security and an incident report. But the drunks outside moved on, Kate settled back down, and the moment – whatever kind of moment Billy might have been imagining – was totally gone.

“Unbelievable,” Kate growled under her breath and flopped, face-first onto her bed.

“Whatever,” Eli grumbled in the darkness. “Like you’ve never been smashed.”

“I’m not smashed now, therefore that was rude.”

“Go to sleep, guys.” Nate’s voice sounded out, the definitive punctuation on the entire thing.

Teddy threw one edge of his blanket over Billy, not meeting his eyes. “G’night,” he offered quietly, and Billy smiled a thin, half-forced smile.

“G’night.”

Teddy rolled over, his back to Billy, and settled in. Billy copied him, rolling to face the bed, his arms wrapped around himself. Teddy’s back was less than an inch away from his, so very solid, his breathing slowly settling in the darkness. The pillow smelled like him, the blanket was warm from his body, and if Billy had the guts at all, he could roll over and slip his arm around Teddy and spoon him, just like that.

How was Billy ever going to be able to relax with him _right there_? What if he talked in his sleep, or snored, or – oh God – what if he _farted_?

No, he was going to lie there awake for the rest of the night, what few hours they had until Nate’s travel alarm went off, caught in this horrific half-purgatory of sleeping next to the guy he was crushing on, without being allowed to touch.

He wasn’t ever going to sleep again.

* * *

 

 

* * *

Billy woke up slowly, surrounded by happy. His arms were wrapped around a big warm pillow that smelled faintly of cinnamon, or maybe vanilla. His nose itched – from hair, his brain helpfully supplied a few seconds of contemplation later – and his head was pillowed on something firm, smooth and muscled. His mattress was lumpy, and it was breathing, and he had what was probably the most amazing morning wood of his life.

Everything thrummed with arousal, from his aching cock down through the ends of his fingers and toes, and his hips hitched forward automatically. At exactly the same moment that his brain came online enough to remember where he was, and who he was with.

Billy was sprawled on top of Teddy, and Teddy’s arms had somehow found their way around him during the night. Billy’s face was pressed into Teddy’s shoulder, his mouth against the curve of his collarbone, and it wasn’t fair that he could smell so damn _good_.

Worse yet, because everything about this was wrong and going to get him killed, Billy’s legs were tangled with Teddy’s. One of Teddy’s thighs pressed into Billy’s groin at an odd angle, just enough to wake things up, but not enough to get any real kind of pressure, and _fuck._ Any second now Teddy was going to wake up and find Billy on top of him, with the unwelcome hard-on to end all hard-ons, and if he only _punched_ him for it, Billy would be getting off lightly.

The shower was running, which meant someone else was already up and moving, which also meant that someone had seen them sleeping all tangled up in each other. It wouldn’t have been Tommy; he would have wasted no time waking them up to gloat, or worse.

Right. Moving time. If he slid out from under Teddy’s arm, slowly, he could disentangle himself and no-one would ever be the wiser. Billy pressed himself up on his arm, grabbing a handful of Teddy’s t-shirt by mistake. Teddy tightened his arms around Billy, rolled his hips in his sleep, and muttered something incomprehensible into Billy’s hair. And oh god, _he_ was hard too; the thick drag of it was unmistakable against Billy’s thigh, and Billy had never wanted anything so badly in his _life_.

He started to peel himself off of Teddy, slowly and carefully. He slid backward until their legs weren’t intertwined anymore. His body ached at the loss of the pressure and promise of heat and beautiful, perfect friction.

Teddy’s eyes fluttered open, blond lashes framing a look of confusion and disorientation that matched Billy’s feelings pretty much exactly. Their eyes locked. Billy pulled away completely as Teddy let go and pushed himself backwards with a speed that would have crushed Billy’s soul if it hadn’t already been annihilated from utter humiliation.

The bathroom door opened and Kate came out, toweling her hair dry. She _smirked_ at them, which – yeah, at least it was Kate? – but it didn’t do much to help Billy’s immediate mood.

“I, uh,” Teddy stammered, and scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his towel and held it at about waist level before fleeing into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

The air mattress sagged under Billy’s weight as he pitched himself forward onto it with a low, traumatized groan. He pulled the pillow over his head and blocked out Kate’s snickering, pressing the edges down over his ears. His head in semi-darkness and his senses muffled, he could concentrate on willing his body down, getting himself back to a place of zen and calm where he could stand up without making an absolute fool of himself.

_You’ll be lucky if he ever talks to you again._

Fuck.

* * *

Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror a little while later, water beading on his cheeks and dripping off the end of his nose, Billy frowned and watched his brow wrinkle. “Right,” he said aloud, and he pointed at his reflection with a stern look. “Get a grip,” he ordered, pitching his voice so that he hopefully couldn’t be heard through the closed door, over the noise of the bathroom fan. “This is _Hulkling_ we’re talking about. The man has drawn you more erect dicks than you’ve ever actually fondled in real life. This should not be an issue.”

As pep talks went it wasn’t his best, but it seemed to do the trick. He managed to get dressed and get his hair looking sort-of-tidy without freaking himself out again. When he turned the bathroom over to Nate, Teddy was waiting for him in the hall.

_Be a man, Kaplan._

Teddy was wearing Cap’s fatigues this time, and he hadn’t bothered with the helmet or the hair gel. He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck, his head hanging and his back slouched against the ugly wallpaper of the hotel hallway. He glanced up as Billy let the door close behind him, and for a moment, they were alone in the hall.

Everything about Teddy’s posture screamed discomfort; what if he was angry after all? Or worse, wasn’t going to want to talk to Billy at all again anymore? The calm Billy had managed to wrap around himself in the bathroom started to dissolve, and he shoved his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn’t give in to the urge to wring them.

“About this morning,” Teddy began, straightening up and squaring his shoulders, looking like he was facing a firing squad, or about to say something he didn’t entirely want to. _Shit._  “This is awkward, and my timing sucks, but-”

“I’m really sorry,” Billy jumped in hastily, cutting off whatever Teddy had been about to say. Teddy opened and closed his mouth, looking a bit goldfish-like, and Billy pushed through, his mouth going without his conscious control. “We’re both guys, it’s one of those things, right? It’s stupid to get freaked out about biology.” _Easy out, I’m giving us an easy out, please don’t get weirded out and stop talking to me, please_ please _-_ “We can pretend it never happened, never speak of it again. Clean slate.”

Teddy didn’t say anything at all for a minute. Then, just as Billy was this close to giving up all hope, “Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.” He didn’t sound happy about that, either. More like... wistful or sad. In what universe did that make sense? The pause dragged on for longer than it should before he half-smiled. “Someday I’ll tell you about the horror show that was swimming lessons when I was thirteen.”

Billy’s shoulders sagged with relief and he breathed again. Making jokes might not equal entirely forgiven, but it meant he had a chance. “Hot swim teacher?” He asked. Teddy kicked back, leaning against the wall again. Billy joined him, daring to bump a shoulder with his own.

“The hottest,” Teddy agreed, but he still wasn’t looking Billy in the eye completely. “And we had to wear speedos. I faked-sick a lot on swim class days; I still don’t know how to do the breast-stroke.”

“That seems weirdly appropriate,” Billy said before he could catch himself, and Teddy laughed, bright and warm. The last of the tension between them dissolved away, and Teddy bumped Billy back with his elbow.

A minute of silence passed, comfortable this time, then Teddy looked at him shrewdly. “This is going to end up in a fic someday, isn’t it?”

Billy opened his mouth, ready to deny it, but then the images popped right _in_ there, Steve and Tony in a safehouse, maybe, curled together to keep Tony warm, because Steve would be fine. Or maybe Steve would end up falling through ice and having flashbacks, a good old hurt/comfort sort of thing, segueing into falling asleep in Tony’s arms-

“Uh.” He flushed warm and Teddy laughed at him again. “Yeah, probably. If you’re okay with it. I won’t mention the inspiration, I promise.” And he held his hand up in an approximation of the boy scout salute.

“Sure, what the hell,” Teddy sighed, but his lips were twitching up in a smile. “Bring it on.”

“You’re a good sport.”

“The best.”

The door opened behind them and Tommy came out, camera and laptop bags over his shoulders. “Let’s roll, baby bro. We’ve got a schedule to keep.” He handed a couple of them off to Billy, who slung them over his arm.

“We’ll be done in a couple of hours,” Billy offered, as Teddy’s smile faded away. “I’ll catch up with you later? If you want, that is.”

“I want,” Teddy’s words rushed out, and then he clamped his mouth shut. “Are you going to be around for the party tonight?”

Billy nodded, but Tommy was already down the hall, pushing the button for the elevator. “Yeah, yeah I definitely will. I’ll meet you here at eight, if we don’t see each other before?”

“Move it, inchworm!” Tommy shouted down the hall, and Billy could feel his cheeks go bright red as Teddy snickered.

“Don’t even say it,” Billy warned him heatedly. “I’m going to kill him.”

Teddy shook his head and mimed zipping his mouth shut. “My lips are sealed. Now go before he gives himself an embolism.”

Reluctantly, and building up enough justification to gleefully strangle Tommy, Billy turned and left Teddy behind.

* * *

  
 

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow burn no longer

Leaving the con just at the point where he actually had some free time was the worst thing. But the chance to shower in his own bathroom and change into clean and semi-decent-looking clothes while Tommy processed and uploaded his footage was probably worth it. Billy had managed to make himself at least marginally presentable – as good as it ever got, anyway. Going through the shaving debate again still left him unconvinced; his jaw was ‘sharp,’ if you were being charitable, and he couldn’t shake the notion that a beard might help.

Just not today. ‘Tidy’ and ‘trying to impress without looking like I’m trying’ took precedence over trying to fix the unfixable. The party in the hotel bar supposedly had a theme, but there was no way Billy could have thrown anything together, even going lower-budget than his stupid attempt at Iron Man from Friday. His hoodie and a pair of semi-decent black jeans were going to have to do.

Which left – what? Courage to knock on the door of Teddy’s hotel room instead of pacing back and forth in the hallway like some kind of demented stalker. The sound of muffled voices on the other side gave him the boost he needed, and Billy rapped on the door. Kate opened it, and Eli’s voice rang out into the hall. “You’re pretty enough, Altman; get the hell out. Some of the rest of us need to use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Teddy came out of the bathroom and Eli slipped in behind him, towel flapping angrily. He noticed Billy standing there, and his smile was almost shy. “Hey, Billy. Ready to go down?”

Billy lost the ability to form human speech.

Teddy’s hair was gelled forward, falling over his forehead. Earrings shone in both ears, hoops and cuffs that marched up a set of holes that Billy hadn’t noticed before, catching the light when he turned his head. Would they be cool to the touch, or warm from his body heat? And would he ever let Billy lick them and find out?

Olive drab cargo pants hung off his hips, hiding the muscles of his legs but doing nothing at all to conceal the shape of his ass, or the curves and hollows of his sides where the black t-shirt clung. He was spectacular, from the leather cuffs on his wrists to his battered old combat boots, and if Billy couldn’t kiss him, touch him, climb him like a goddamn _tree_ , he was going to die. Literally die, since his heart would stop and his brain was going to _fry_.

“All you ever have to do is ask,” Billy blurted out, and had to close his eyes as Teddy’s ears went bright red. He shoved his hands in his pockets and bit the inside of his cheek, _hard_. Kate was snickering as she did something fancy with makeup brushes over in the corner by the lamp, and Billy fought back the burning bile-rush of humiliation. “That is, yes – yes. Downstairs. Going now.”

Kate’s laughter followed them out of the room and halfway down the hall.

“Well, you now have two days worth of living proof of my unerring ability to stick my foot in my mouth.” Billy rolled his eyes, mostly at himself, and jabbed at the elevator button. The doors slid open almost immediately, the pair of them reflected a half-dozen times over in the mirrored interior. “Still think I’m ‘cool’?”

“Not in the slightest,” Teddy said solemnly. “I’m a grown man; I can admit when I was wrong.”

“So you are saying I’m _not_ cool.”

“You are the anti-cool. If Batman is the epitome of cool, then you would be... Molecule Man.”

“Molecule Man is _not_ the antithesis of Batman; your analogy is fundamentally flawed.”

“ _You’re_ fundamentally flawed.”  

That should have been a lot more crushing than it was, but the effect was negated by the twinkle in the blue eyes of a dozen mirror-image Teddys. Billy snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Just you wait until the con reports go up, hot sauce boy; your rep will be just as trashed as mine. I’m amazed you have any taste buds left.”

“If I have no taste, then that explains why I’m going to a party with you.” Teddy fired back, grinning wide. He stepped out of the elevator as the doors opened, dodging Billy’s half-hearted kick. The music was pounding halfway down the hall from the ballroom, the bass line reverberating up through Billy’s chest and sinking deep into his sternum.

 _With you,_ Teddy had just said. _Going to a party with you._

It didn’t feel like a date, and no-one had officially asked anyone, at least not according to the usual ‘will-you-go-out-with-me’ formula. But it fell in line with noodles yesterday, and pizza for lunch, and the way Teddy had flushed when he carefully, and oh-so-gently, wiped a smear of pizza sauce from Billy’s lip with the pad of his thumb.  

It had taken every ounce of control that Billy possessed not to lick him. It had been a good lunch.

Was this their _third_ not-date?

Did _Teddy_ know?

They were at the door, though, and showing their con badges to get in, and there wasn’t any time to figure out how to ask. The music swelled up and over them and the flashing strobes left purple after-images when Billy blinked. It was easier then, to let Teddy pull him along, their fingers laced together so that they didn’t get separated in the crowd. He elbowed them some room on the dance floor between Jules Verne and a handful of female Doctors, and Billy fell into step.

Billy wasn’t a bad dancer, at least; he wasn’t the greatest, but he wasn’t terrible. Teddy moved easily, looking more comfortable in his skin than he had before. When his hand settled lightly on Billy’s hip – not pulling him closer, just resting there like it belonged there and always had – Billy let Teddy guide him easily into matching their rhythms. Teddy’s touch burned hot through Billy’s clothes; he would swear he could feel more than just the faint pressure lingering there. Teddy hooked a finger through one of Billy’s belt loops after a while, keeping that same easy distance between them and his eyes on Billy’s face.

If he’d ever wanted a sign, this had to be it, didn’t it? Teddy was so near now that Billy could smell his cologne, feel the warm puffs of his breath on the side of his face. They had been so _close_ to something the night before; he had felt it then and it was back again now, a searing, pulsing burning _thing_ that nestled deep in the center of his chest.

When the revelation hit, it was with blinding lights in his eyes and sweat beading on the back of his neck, with shock and awe, and a warm settled certainty that it had always been meant to be this way.

_I’m in love with Teddy Altman._

Teddy leaned in, close enough to speak, his lips brushing the shell of Billy’s ear. Billy shivered involuntarily, electric jolts rushing down his neck and spine. “Come on,” Teddy suggested, tugging at Billy’s belt loop to pull him closer. “I’ll get us drinks.” Billy managed a nod even though every synapse seemed to be firing out of order.

_And I think he likes me, too._

The bar had been set up at the far end and Teddy kept his hand on Billy until they made it out of the crowd on the other side, only letting go to pat down his own pockets. It was a little quieter on this end, further away from the sound system and the massive speakers, and they could speak without having to shout. “Do you want a beer? My treat.”

“Sure.” Billy nodded, sticking close. He had a chance to say something; to find out what Teddy was thinking, how much of his looks and his flirting were meant to be real. The prospect took his breath away, and he caught himself watching the quick movements of Teddy’s long, thick fingers as he flicked deftly through a small stack of cards in his wallet. “I don’t have ID, though.”

“I’ll try,” Teddy shrugged. “Mine’s real, and he might only card me. Live dangerously, right?” He laughed, and Billy only hesitated for a second.

“Go for it. See what you can do.”  

Even the way he moved was poetry, controlled and strong, his arms swinging easily at his sides. Billy followed as far as the end of the bar, leaned his elbows on it as Teddy headed for the busy bartender, who looked up with an appraising glance. _Mine._ Billy surprised himself with the vehemence of his mental snarl at the smiles the two men exchanged. _Back off._

The bartender held out his hand and Teddy passed over his ID, took it back a moment later after he was satisfied. Maybe they would get away with the tiny subterfuge after all.

 “And your boyfriend.”

Holy shit. That was an amazing phrase, an awesome sentence, even if it meant they weren’t going to get their drinks. _Boyfriend._ They could be; he would be totally, one-hundred percent on board with that. And the chemistry wasn’t just Billy’s imagination, then, because if people they didn’t know were looking at them and seeing _a couple_ -

“Oh,” Teddy stammered. He looked at Billy and then away again, not meeting his eyes. His cheeks were red. “It’s not like that! We’re not- he’s not my boyfriend.”

Billy’s stomach dropped. The lights dimmed around him and his ears went hollow, sound coming from too far away and echoing too much to make any sense out of it.

 _Of course. It has to go both ways, and why would_ he _want_ me?

“Either way,” the bartender continued too casually, not noticing Billy’s hopes crumbling around his feet, “I still need to see some ID.”

The ceiling was too low, the room too hot, too loud, too everything. There would be cooler air outside, if he could get out to the hallway. Then he would be able to breathe. Billy shook his head. “I’m not twenty-one yet; it’s cool. Forget it.”

One foot behind the other and he was backing away; a few more steps and he’d be within arm’s reach of a door.

“Billy?” Teddy’s face was sweet and concerned, his brow furrowed, confusion and indecision written so boldly across his face that he might as well have been wearing a neon sign. ‘ _I have no clue how he got that idea,’_ it would say, and ‘ _you’re a great guy, but.’_

“You know what?” Billy said quickly, before the hammer could fall. “I’m going to take off. It’s getting hot and loud in here, and I promised Tommy I’d get some more pictures of the exhibit hall when there weren’t so many people in the way.”

He turned, ducked his head and walked away quickly, not quite running, but enough to get himself clear before he did something he was going to regret. Like the entire weekend.

“Billy!” He heard Teddy’s voice behind him – didn’t the guy know when to let it go? Billy picked up speed, made it out into the relative peace and quiet of the back hallway, the air cooler and the sound of the music muffled by walls and carpet. Keep moving; just keep moving.

“Billy!” Teddy was still following, closer now, and Billy’s eyes stung sharply. He scrubbed at them with the back of his hand. “ _Asgardian_ – would you _stop?_ ” Teddy grabbed his elbow, stopped him short and spun him around. Teddy didn’t look indecisive anymore; his eyes snapped and his face was set in a frown, all of that full-body intensity directed entirely at Billy. “What the hell?”

“Teddy,” Billy started, then pulled his elbow free with a rough jerk. “Just let it go, alright?” 

“No. Something’s obviously wrong, and you need to tell me. I thought we were having fun, until you freaked out. Over being carded? That doesn’t make any sense.” Teddy said pleadingly, his hands spread wide. “Talk to me?”

Time to lay the cards down, rip off the band-aid, whatever. Deal with it, and find out what the fallout was going to be, because there was no way they were getting out of this with their friendship – _friendship, fuck_ – unscathed. “I know you don’t want me,” Billy blurted out. “That’s fine, whatever. I’ve got a crush on you, yeah, but I’ll deal. Just give me some _space_.” And there it was, and here came the hammer, and the ‘I just want to be friends’ that would be the beginning of the end of everything.

“Who said that I didn’t want to be with you?” Teddy asked, and nothing at all made sense anymore. “I never said that.”

“Yeah, you kind of just did. I’m ‘not your boyfriend.’ And I know that. And it’s fine. Or it’s not fine right now, but it will be fine. Eventually.” He wasn’t sure what he’d expected; laughter, maybe, if Teddy had been anyone else. From him, maybe just that lost-puppy look and an apology that would be so sincere that it would break Billy’s heart for the second time that night.

Billy shook his head, his bangs flopping into his eyes. He dragged his hand through them to pull them back, and Teddy’s eyes followed the movement. “I get why you wouldn’t want to be with me, alright? I get it. You’re so –“ he gestured helplessly. “ _You._  And so far out of my league that you might as well be from another planet. But I thought _maybe_...  And I need time to get my head back around it before I do something stupid and screw up the best friendship I’ve ever had.”

Teddy gaped at him, and that stunned expression shouldn’t have been as stupidly endearing as it was. “You’ve lost your mind,” he declared, a stake through Billy’s heart in four easy words.

He didn’t have to be so _incredulous_ about it. “I could be boyfriend material,” Billy replied hotly. “It’s not _that_ weird an idea.”

“Believe me, I know!” Teddy shot back, closing his mouth and losing the look of confusion. “But I’m not about to tell some random _stranger_ that we’re dating when I haven’t even gotten up the nerve to ask _you_ yet!” He scrubbed at the back of his neck, and had a hard time meeting Billy’s eyes. “It seemed like the kind of thing I should clear with you first.”

“Wait, what?” Billy’s turn to feel like a goldfish, gasping for air in a world turned upside down for the third time in as many minutes.

“I like you,” Teddy said. His hand was still behind his head, and he was alternately staring at his feet and peeking up at Billy as though to gauge his reactions. “A _lot_. You’ve been one of the best things in my life for a couple of years now,” he continued, picking up steam. He dropped his hand and looked Billy in the eye, his jaw set. “Online or off, it doesn’t matter. I know everyone says that it's not the same, but it’s been real to me.”

This must be what whiplash felt like. Billy’s stomach wasn’t sure where home base was anymore, and he ached around the temples. Teddy watched him, holding his breath, worrying at his bottom lip with his perfect white teeth. Billy opened his mouth, closed it again. Then opened it once more. “...I’m an idiot.”

The smile blossomed back across Teddy’s face, more tentative this time, but real. He held up his thumb and forefinger a quarter-inch apart. “A little.” He shuffled his feet, though, and frowned before he kept going. “Look, Billy... I don’t want to push you into anything. And if you say no, it’ll hurt, but I swear I’ll understand. Even though it’s just three hours, long distance _sucks_. As long as we can still be friends. Because even if that’s all I can have, I don’t want to lose you, ever.”

For once in his life, Billy was the one who wanted someone _else_ to stop talking. He grabbed Teddy’s shirt and reeled him in, stopping only when Teddy’s hands hit the wall on either side of Billy’s head.

They breathed together, Teddy looming over Billy by an inch or two, his lips lush and delicately pink and right _there._ Billy’s skin tingled, and his heart thudded so rapidly in his chest that it could power a small city if hooked up to a generator.

“So that’s a yes?” Teddy asked. He looked down at Billy’s fist, still balled up in his shirt, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

Billy exhaled, and all his stress went with it. “ _Hell_ yes.”

“Then I can-“ Teddy trailed off, his throat bobbing as he swallowed with what looked like crazy nerves, and he stared at Billy’s mouth intently.

Billy pulled him closer. “If you don’t, I will.”

Teddy ducked his head to close the tiny distance between them, and pressed his closed mouth gently against Billy’s. Their first brush of lips together was tentative and chaste, almost childlike, for all that Billy’s body had caught on and was screaming at him for so much more. Billy pressed up into it, wound his hands around the back of Teddy’s neck and kept him in place, letting his lips fall open.

Cinnamon lingered on Teddy’s breath, the gum long gone but the taste weaving around Billy and pulling him under. Spice and heat, warm and slick when Teddy opened for him and Billy slicked against his lips, pressed inside. He ran his tongue along the edge of Teddy’s teeth, the short hairs on the back of Teddy’s neck soft under his fingers when he curled them tighter. The ocean rushed in his ears, vanilla-scented, musky and warm.

One of Teddy’s hands slid around Billy’s waist, fingertips finding the edge of bare skin beneath the hem of his shirt. His touch left trails of fire along Billy’s skin, the places he caressed burning hot, even in the cool air after.  He jerked up into it, chased the sensation, his hips moving despite himself. Teddy smiled against his mouth.

“This is okay?” Teddy asked in a low murmur, the pad of his thumb stroking Billy’s hip, just above the waistband of his jeans. Up and over, over and back. Those hands; God, what those hands could do to him if they weren’t in a hallway, if they could find some time alone.

Billy sucked in air and tried to slow his heart down to something approaching normal, something that would let him concentrate on making words, instead of cataloguing every place Teddy’s body was touching his, the bare inch between his head and Teddy’s hand braced against the wall, the slow and lazy circles that Teddy was drawing on his hipbone. “Yes, god _, yes_. All of it.” Billy reeled him in, slid his fingers into Teddy’s hair and held him steady, kissed him again. Teddy scooped him up, hands sliding around his ass, and pressed him back against the wall. Billy wrapped his legs around Teddy’s hips for support, and – taller than him now – bent his head down for a kiss. 

His nose crashed into Teddy’s and Teddy tried to turn the other way, their foreheads knocking together soundly and their teeth clashing, and Teddy started to laugh. The sound sunk under Billy’s skin and Billy took the chance to catch his breath between the bouts of laughter. His forehead rested against Teddy’s, and they breathed together. If he was struck down by lightning right now, he would die happy and satisfied.

Well, no. His pants would protest that. Not _satisfied_ , per se, but happy. Fucking _ecstatic._

“I never thought you’d want someone like me,” Billy murmured, part of his brain screaming at him for daring to break the moment. He risked losing the solid and heavy weight of Teddy between his thighs, the heat of his chest bare millimeters away from Billy’s, the play of his fingertips through the denim of Billy’s jeans.

Teddy’s brow creased, and he shook his head with a small laugh. “What? Scary-smart dark-haired guys with tendencies toward inappropriately-timed sarcasm? Have you even _looked_ at my DeviantArt?”

That was eye-roll-worthy. Teddy shifted his hands and Billy grabbed on to his shoulders in case he was planning to drop him, but he just gripped Billy tighter, pulling his hips in close. Teddy’s cock rode solidly against his stomach through the layers of fabric that separated them. Billy rocked into him, pushing his hips away from the wall. Teddy’s breath caught, his lower lip bitten-red and gleaming.

“I’m not Tony Stark,” Billy felt obliged to point out. He toyed with the scruff at the back of Teddy’s neck and Teddy shuddered, a full-body shiver punctuated by a soft moan low in his throat. He nuzzled into Billy’s hair, pressed his lips to a spot behind Billy’s ear before pulling away.

“Thank goodness,” Teddy replied fervently. “I don’t think I could deal with quite that level of narcissism on a daily basis.” He shrugged, as well as he could while his arms were around Billy. “But maybe I do kind of have a type. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

Billy pretended to consider it, then bit lightly at Teddy’s lower lip. “Considering that I’m currently making out with the kindest-hearted, most beautiful, broad-shouldered blond boy in the universe, _Cap_ ,” Teddy looked chagrined, and Billy couldn’t help laughing. “I’m in no position to judge.”

_How is it that I know your top five sexual fetishes..._

Did he dare?

Billy dared. Teddy’s jaw was just-shaved smooth under his lips, and he kissed his way up to Teddy’s ear, sucked the bottom hoop between his lips and tongued the warm ring. He whispered the next thing, the barest breath against Teddy’s ear. “For the record, I’m wearing red boxer briefs.” And then came the distinct pleasure of watching Teddy’s eyes glaze over and the flush rise from under his collar.

He was hard, his jeans way too tight. They could make it upstairs through the back elevators without going through the lobby, then maybe no-one would see how indecent he was getting, how much he wanted this beautiful, perfect boy. Teddy groaned against his mouth, and it hit Billy again like a thunderbolt. The _idea_ that kissing him was enough to get Teddy hard, this guy who could have anyone he wanted in the world, and he wanted _Billy-_

“What do you want to do?” Teddy murmured, his fingers splayed out over Billy’s ass, their bodies twined together.

“Anything,” Billy promised recklessly, their foreheads tipped together and trading the same breath of air back and forth with every light and teasing press of lips.  

Teddy arched an incredulous eyebrow. “... _Anything_?” he laughed. “That could be dangerous.”

Billy pretended to reconsider, and tugged at Teddy’s hair again, just to see if his pupils could possibly go any wider. “Anything that wouldn’t require a warning tag on the kink meme,” he amended. “Negotiate the rest later.”

Teddy started to laugh, surged in to kiss the laughter out of Billy again. In the noise and the rush of desire, Billy almost missed hearing the fake electronic click of the camera.

The shutter sound brought him back to awareness, the memory of where he was and what they were doing. They were in a hotel hallway, Billy's back up against the wall and Teddy holding him up by his ass, his tongue halfway down Billy’s throat. He had his legs wrapped around Teddy’s hips, grinding a truly magnificent erection against his boyfriend of all of five minutes, if _that_...

And Kate Bishop had just gotten it all on film.

She stood a few feet away, her phone held up in front of her face, and as Billy’s head whipped around, she took another picture. “Smile for the camera, boys,” Kate said, and behind her, Tommy and Eli were draped over each other, absolutely losing their shit. _Nate_ wasn’t laughing, but he was leaning against the wall, his arms folded in front of him, shaking his head at all of them.

“Oh, _shit,_ ” Teddy said reverently, in that moment while they were both still too stunned to move. Billy unwound himself, got his feet on the floor, and Kate must have seen it in their eyes, because she turned on her heel, and rabbited out of there.

Teddy and Billy gave chase, thundering down the hallway, weaving around Tommy and Eli. Billy skidded around the corner and burned down the next hall, Kate still too far in front of him to grab her with any kind of force. She spun around another corner and exited into the hotel lobby. Teddy veered left around the fountain, Billy went right, and headed her off at the desk before she could make a break for the elevator banks.

A cluster of soft couches sat in the middle of the lobby on the other side of the marble fountain, and Teddy dove for Kate, tackling her down onto one of them. “Give it to me!” He ordered, and Kate flung her arms out away from him, phone clutched in her hand.

Teddy sat on her.

The concierge at the desk had a concerned face on. Billy circled, and grabbed the phone out of Kate’s hand.

The photos weren’t entirely pornographic, but holy _hell_ , that was a lot of eye-fucking and groping going on that didn’t ever need to see the light of day.

“Touch my phone and I’ll have your bank accounts hacked, Kaplan,” Kate threatened from underneath Teddy.

 “Is everything alright over here?” the concierge approached, his face stern, looking from Teddy to Kate for confirmation.

Kate flashed him a thumbs-up. “All good. My friends are just being _massive spoilsports._ ”

Billy hit ‘send,’ his phone and Teddy’s beeping in unison a moment later. He tossed the phone back to Kate once he’d deleted the pictures from the memory.

She pushed herself up and Teddy slid sideways, letting himself land on the far end of the couch. “You two owe me,” Kate stabbed a finger at the pair of them, and Teddy just shook his head. “You have to let me get a picture to post,” she wheedled.

“Why?” Billy asked, folding his arms. The adrenaline of the chase had superseded other things, but now that the rush was wearing off, his insides were upside down and backward again from the rollercoaster of the last half hour.

Kate looked off to the side, grinning. “There may or may not have been money riding on this.” She grinned wide when Teddy stared at her with shock and horror, then patted his shoulder reassuringly when he buried his face in his hands. “And I need proof for those not in attendance.”

“No,” Teddy said, muffled by his hands. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” Kate pestered. “You guys choose the pose, I’ll put it on Tumblr in my con report, and you two will be the most nauseatingly cute couple in all of fandom.”

Billy chewed on his lip, watching Teddy, his own resolve wavering. “If we get to see it first – no surprises,” he suggested.

Kate’s eyes flashed wickedly. “I’ll do you a solid,” she bargained. “One picture - but it's got to be a good one - and I make sure no-one goes back to the hotel room for the next hour.”

Teddy looked up at that, which made Kate grin wider, and a knot of nerves tangled themselves up in Billy’s chest. He flushed hot when Teddy met his eyes, a thousand things flickering in those blue skies.

_Will you – could we – is this what you want?_

Somehow, it had all been leading up to this. From that first sign-on, the first electronic wave that began binding them together, pixel by pixel. Years of text marching across screens, of souls unfolding to each other, shedding layers of carefully constructed armor with every new and unashamed confession. His walls crumbled, leaving him naked and vulnerable, and Teddy looked back at him in a transparent prayer. Certainty and desire burned through him, ignited his skin and left him breathless.  

Teddy nodded, slowly, and the knot in Billy’s chest turned into an atom bomb. “Make it two,” Teddy said to Kate, his mouth tugging up in an impossible smile, “and you’ve got a deal.”

** **

* * *

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath!

Billy hated garages. Underground parking lots were _absolutely_ the worst. Because Kate’s car was parked a few spots over from the elevators, and the pack of people standing around and saying their goodbyes meant that Billy was down to his last two or three minutes with Teddy, for _weeks_ at least.

Teddy squeezed his hand when Billy leaned against him; he had to understand what was running through Billy’s mind.

Sixteen hours.

That was all they had had, and a good six of those had been utterly wasted by sleeping. Sleeping wrapped in Teddy’s arms, mind you; that had been good. And waking _up_ in Teddy’s arms without awkwardness (beyond ‘morning wood which we can’t do anything about because there are three other people _right there_ ’), which mitigated things. It had also been perfect proof of what he was going to be missing once Teddy, Eli and Kate were back up in Ithaca, and they would be back to communicating as nothing but pixels on a screen.

At least now there was the option of a voice in Billy’s ear as well.

He slung his arms around Teddy’s waist and tipped his chin up for another kiss. Teddy wove his fingers into Billy’s hair and held him in place. His tongue tasted deep into Billy’s mouth, slick-sliding and needy. And the things he could do with that _mouth_ , _had_ done, before Kate and the others had stumbled back into the room the night before... Billy squirmed, blood rushing south again. While that would have been an excellent way to say goodbye, letting himself get distracted with everyone else around was a humiliation he wasn’t all that keen on repeating.

“We’re gonna need a crowbar to separate them,” he heard Eli say, and Billy flipped a finger somewhere in Eli’s general direction.

Teddy finally let him up for air, nibbling lightly on Billy’s lower lip as they let go. Teddy kept his hands slipped into Billy’s back pockets, the tug there grounding and easy. Billy scrubbed his thumb gently over a spot on Teddy’s chest, the fabric of his t-shirt bunching over the hidden bruises that Billy had sucked into his skin. _Mine._

“I wish you could stay,” Billy said wistfully. “I hate this. I want more time.”

Teddy touched his forehead to Billy’s and nodded, the motion moving Billy’s head with it. “So do I. But we both have class tomorrow morning, and midterms are almost here.” Billy tightened his arms around Teddy, felt the gentle press of Teddy’s lips against his forehead. He tried to commit it to memory, the feel of the fabric of Teddy’s shirt under his hands, the pull of muscle beneath pale skin, the little hitching sound in his breathing when Billy pressed close. He couldn’t forget _any_ of it.

“I’ll be down over Thanksgiving,” Teddy reminded him. “For a whole week, this time.”

“I’m going to try and come up before that,” Billy declared out loud, a plan starting to coalesce in his mind’s eye. “Six weeks is too long.” He flickered an eyebrow up at Teddy, who cocked his head in curiosity. “What if you meet someone else in the mean time?”

Teddy laughed aloud, the rich sound that bubbled through Billy’s veins like his own blood. “The way I see it, we’ve been kind-of dating for more than two years now. You honestly think I’m going to run off on you once we’ve finally gotten to the really fun stuff?”

“I’m just that good, hmm?” Billy nuzzled the bottom of Teddy’s chin, giddy with it. A few more minutes; he’d have to say goodbye soon, but just give him this last few-  

Teddy swept Billy into a hungry kiss, full of hands running up and down his sides, firm, needy lips, and everything wonderful. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

Eli’s voice broke in, dark to match his scowl. “I swear to God, Teddy, if you don’t get your ass in the car in the next two minutes, I’m going to turn the hose on you.”

He pulled away and turned to go, shouldering his bag. Billy’s heart ached, a stab through the center of it with every step away from him that Teddy took. Teddy looked back over his shoulder as he got to the car, though, and he smiled. “I’ll see you on Skype, ten o’clock,” Teddy insisted, pointing at Billy.

Billy nodded, hands in his pockets, and the stabbing sensation transmuted to something softer, but just as poignant. Not goodbye, just ‘back to normal’ for a little while, along with something better than Billy had ever had before, or ever would again.

_He thinks I’m kind of amazing._

_My best friend, my partner in crime, my_ boyfriend _._ And wow, _that_ wasn’t going to get old anytime soon.

Billy smiled, and Teddy smiled back, hanging his arms over the car door before Eli tugged on his jacket to pull him inside.

“It’s a date.”

* * *

  


* * *

 

  

IronLad

| 

Excellent con report, Kate. I’ll have mine up tomorrow, I think. I have to find my notebook. 

| 

@Asgardian

@MissAmerica

@Patriot

@Hulkling

@IronLad

@LadyHawkguy

Cannonball

Finesse

Gert

Husk

Khirsah

Lightspeed

MarvelBoy

PrincessPower

Prodigy

Santo

Stature

Vision

WallyWest   
  
---|---|---  
  
Stature

| 

SO good to meet everyone! <3 <3 <3 Wish I could have stayed longer  
  
MissAmerica

| 

Looking good, querida   
  
LadyHawkguy 

| 

¡Gracias!  
  
Vision 

| 

Who is the man dressed as Captain America?   
  
MarvelBoy 

| 

yes; subtitles please  
  
Stature 

| 

Cap is Hulkling!  
  
Gert 

| 

Holy crap.  
  
Patriot 

 

| 

The low-rent Iron Man there is Asgardian, guy with no costume is his brother.

And yes, that’s Asgardian and Hulkling in the last pic there too. They were either making eyes at each other or doing _that_ All. Weekend.  
  
Asgardian 

| 

Haters gonna hate.  
  
Vision 

| 

Hulkling is male?  
  
PrincessPower 

| 

OMG I KNEW IT I SO CALLED IT  
  
MarvelBoy 

| 

That’s unexpected  
  
MissAmerica 

| 

You’ve gotta be kidding me  
  
PrincessPower 

| 

TOLDJASO - GAY FOR ASGARDIAN!  
  
Hulkling

| 

Gay all the time. Also, with Asgardian.  
  
Stature

| 

Aren’t they cute?  
  
* * *

 

* * *

  
 

* * *

The Daily Bugle

October 27, 2013

**Caption: Moments before the shark ignited**

SHARKNADO AT COMIC-CON

Two helium-filled aquatic inflatables engaged in a slow-motion dogfight in the main hall at ComicCon on Sunday afternoon. The demonstration, not believed to be an official part of this media event, ended with one of the toys catching on fire thanks to what was apparently an off-market laser sight mounted on the shark. The fire was extinguished without any further damage or injury.

 

Stature

| 

Hey, look! Patriot and Iron Lad made the news! SHARKNADO  [http://www.bugledaily.com/media/]

| 

@Asgardian

@MissAmerica

@Patriot

@Hulkling

@IronLad

@LadyHawkguy

BoomBoom

Gert

Hazmat

Husk

Khirsah

Lightspeed

PrincessPower

Prodigy

RedWizard

SpeedyGonzales

Stature  
  
---|---|---  
  
Patriot 

| 

Oh NO  
  
Stature 

| 

You hadn’t seen it?   
  
IronLad 

| 

My parents are going to kill me  
  
MissAmerica 

| 

Such idiots.  
  
Patriot 

| 

You just wish you’d been there.  
  
MissAmerica 

| 

To kick your ass, yeah.  
  
Asgardian 

| 

That was awesome.  I think I have some footage of that.  
  
PrincessPower

| SHARKNADO OF FIRE  
  
   
  
 

* * *

 

   

* * *

It took ten agonizing minutes after that last text came through before Billy finally spotted him, Teddy’s blond hair moving through the crowd of commuters heading every which way before the holiday weekend really started. He waved frantically and Teddy waved back, and made a beeline for the bench where Billy had parked himself to wait. Three weeks, two days and four hours since Billy had gotten on the bus in Ithaca and left _Teddy_ behind, and it felt like more.

Not that their routines had changed much; they still chatted online every night, still sent chapters and sketches back and forth, still reblogged pretty much everything the other one had touched. Only now there were texts on Billy’s phone as well as emails, and their chats had moved to Skype. Teddy kept reminding him that it would probably be a lot like that if they were _at_ the same school, one way or the other, spending time on homework and studying, and seeing each other in person when they could. That made things a little easier.  

None of it was as good, as perfectly right, as grabbing Teddy’s hand and pulling him into a desperate, searching ‘welcome home’ kiss, right there in the middle of the Port Authority Terminal. Harried commuters streamed around them on their way to places that didn’t have Teddy in them (and for that reason alone, were obviously horribly inferior). Teddy looked around carefully before letting himself be pulled in, but he kissed Billy back like he was starving, sank into it with the same sort of desperation that Billy felt.

“Hi,” Teddy said after they separated, his lips pink and slightly parted.

“Hi, yourself,” Billy replied, giddiness washing over him. His fingers fit between Teddy’s and they started to walk toward the exit, Teddy’s backpack thrown over his shoulder and his letter jacket hanging open. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, squeezing Teddy’s hand in commiseration.

“Not on your life. But I’m glad they invited me, even though my DEFCON levels are sky-high.”  Teddy squeezed back. “Mom’s excited to meet you tomorrow, for what it’s worth. She tends to be a lot more laid-back about these things though; she never really bugged me about why I wasn’t dating much.”

“Maybe she’s just glad you’re getting out now,” Billy joked, and that sick feeling he’d been ignoring all week settled into the pit of his stomach again. Bringing Teddy home on Thanksgiving to meet his parents – and not just his parents, but the brats, and two of his grandparents, and all the chaos that was sure to go along with everything...

Not to mention Hannukah falling on top of it this year, which added a whole new level of weird in bringing home a non-Jewish _boy_ friend. But then again, his parents had never been the ones to have trouble with Billy’s orientation. Maybe Tommy was right, and nothing about any of this would actually faze them. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out.

“Could be,” Teddy replied easily. They emerged into the cold November air, and Billy shivered when the wind hit him. “Do we have a cover story?”

“What, other than ‘I met a serial killer over the internet’?” Billy groaned. “Not yet.”

“Dating service?” Teddy suggested blandly, and only an outraged look at his face showed the sparkle in his eyes that hinted that he was joking.

“No, definitely not.” Billy shuddered. “You don’t have any brothers; that would never, ever end well.”

The wind picked up around them as they walked, dry brown leaves whipping around Billy’s feet. A loose page of newspaper brushed against Teddy’s leg for a second before wafting off down the street again.

“Introduced by a mutual friend?” Teddy said, and his thumb stroked gentle circles on the back of Billy’s hand.

“That could work,” Billy nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve mentioned Eli before. It won’t earn me the online safety lecture, anyway. Next question. How long have we been together?”

“Two years?” Teddy teased. “It’s not entirely wrong, and it’s a nice round number.”

“Too round. I’ll get grief for not bringing you home sooner.”

“Give me something more to work with, then.”

Nothing in particular marked the moment as something out of the ordinary; it was one out of a million identical grey autumn afternoons in New York City, and they were two out of millions of identical people wandering around like ants inside it. But the air smelled clean and crisp, fall settling in and winter on its way, and everything inside Billy was warm.

He could do this forever, just this, walking hand in hand with Teddy and watching the world shift and change around them, the seasons rolling by one after another. In less than a week, Teddy would be gone again, and there was no way to predict, or to control, what would happen six months after that, or six years, or sixty. 

Right now there was only this, only them. And it was magic. 


	7. Credits

All text and graphics manipulation by Ardatli.

Teddy’s art by Yafgcrich – <http://gorpo.deviantart.com>

Icons and Kate’s photograph by Maelikki - <http://maelikki.tumblr.com/>

NYCC 2013 photographs by Caterpills, used with permission.

Beta read by Caterpills and xandertheundead

Thank you to DangerousCommieSubversive/arcanelibrarian for letting me borrow her icon and sully her internet reputation!

Photograph references used for some of the cosplay sketches:

  * [The Adorable Hulkling and Wiccan Cosplayers (you know who you are)](http://holidaysinlalaland.tumblr.com/post/58812239981/)
  * [Batman](http://www.craveonline.com/comics/articles/586721-nycc-2013-cosplay-gallery#/slide/6)
  * [Inspector Gadget](http://albotas.com/post/64124913025/new-york-comic-con-2013-cosplay-round-up-nycc-may)
  * [Gypsy Danger](http://gobigorgoextinct.tumblr.com/post/56910942242)



ComicCon logo used in Maelikki's image taken from here

Format inspired by falling_voices’ “The Theory of Narrative Causality,” a web 2.0 epistolary AU Johnlock fanfic media experience.

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Original prompt from Khirsah:

_Billy and Teddy are Steve/Tony shippers and fandom BNFs: Billy is a writer, and Teddy a fanartist. They only know each other online, and meet at a convention for the very first time._

_I tend to like slow builds, but! If you started them with having a background of being internet friends (not knowing where each other lived) for a few years then segued into them starting to build feelings, you could manage short and fluffy and still make me squeal with delight. Things I love:_

_Not being sure of gender and falling in love anyway._

_The first ooomph of seeing each other and being impossibly attracted. (Esp Billy to Teddy. I do like a Billy who feels he is a solid 5 and Teddy tips the scales at 11.)_

_Fluttery kisses leading to inappropriate makeouts!_

_Kate snapping a camerapic to show the rest of fandom how adorable this new RPS couple is._

_Idea to toss at you with no need to fill it (this was just what I was thinking of doing when I toyed with writing this):_

_When they meet at Con, Teddy is in an amazing Captain America outfit he and his friends Eli and Kate made. Billy is Iron man in jeans, a red hoodie, and a stick-on arc reactor._


End file.
